#well didn't have skills to make a proper one so this was the closest I could get xD

[thedgeoftheuniverse]

puppy love (or something like it)

part 1

— And, nevertheless, you waited and waited for his call and never took more than a moment to respond, both of you trailing after each other in an endless (not) lovesick circle like lost puppies.

((eight)teen, barista!gojo x fem!reader)

(word count: 7k)

(tags/warnings: slightly toxic gojo, sort of fwb gojo, cursing, lightest of light smut, underage drinking (be responsible!!), reader is a bit insecure, time jumps, a hint of meaningless flirting. lmk if i missed any!)

no.. i didn't write 7k words in less than 24 hours...idk what this is but it's def something!!!!

AUGUST 2007 –

Satoru Gojo’s senior year of high school flew by in a blur; between sports (to only slightly brag, he brought his football team to regionals and won—he was only the best quarterback his school had seen in a decade or more), honors classes, a full social life, and demanding parents, it felt like he never had a moment for himself. Sure, he was well accomplished for an eighteen-year-old but he was still just that: eighteen years old.

He realized one day, with a startling abruptness around three in the morning before returning from winter break, that the last eighteen years of his life had been lived under the instruction of someone else. In fact, Satoru could hardly recall a single decision he made by and for himself—he wasn't sure that he had. Even his involvement with sports, for all the love he held for it, was pushed at him by his father from a young age. His extroverted, sociable personality was instilled in him by his mother because, as a member of the Gojo clan, he was held to a higher standard (and amount) for his interactions—he could not, would not, should not shy away from it.

Maybe Suguru and Shoko—his closest, more beloved friends. Maybe keeping them around was the only decision he made for himself; especially Suguru, considering his family was not fond of his more humble (not obscenely wealthy) upbringing. 

On that same night, Satoru realized he rather disliked his parents.

So, in the wake of all the enlightenment and wisdom that can befall an eighteen year old boy, he decided to spite them.

It was a brilliant scheme, one that would cause them displeasure and him satisfaction—Satoru decided to take a gap year between high school and college. He ignored their droning warnings and complaints of ‘If you don't go now, you never will,’ ‘We have worked too hard to let you give up and amount to nothing,’ and, his personal favorite: ‘This is all because of that Geto boy! I knew he was a bad influence!’

(As if he ever could “amount to nothing.” The Gojo name secured his future indefinitely, and they all knew it.)

After a month of argument and debate, an agreement was reached—Satoru would take a gap year under the condition he would find a job to keep him motivated and teach him ‘real world skills,’ or whatever his parents insisted minimum wage work would instill in him. His working theory was that they believed threatening him with real work would make him back down and start applying to schools, but that only made him more spiteful and determined to stick it out for a year. For once, he wanted to do something that he chose, not that was chosen for him.

By the time the end of high school came around, Gojo was close to nineteen and determined to prove his parents' warnings unfounded.

He didn't think it would be this difficult.

He thought brewing coffee was supposed to be easy—a couple scoops of this, a pump or two of that, pour and done.

But the rather chatty, too-upbeat-for-even-Satoru barista was droning on about different roasts, optimal temperatures, the proper angle for steaming a cappuccino (what the fuck was a cappuccino), different grinds of coffee beans—anything and everything under the sun. He never knew coffee was so involved. And the syrups—God, the fucking syrups. He was sure he had never seen so many flavors in one place and he sincerely doubted his ability to memorize them. A million flavors with trillion combinations and a seemingly infinite supply of picky customers requesting the most obscure concoctions of mocha and caramel and fucking mint?! 

Even Satoru knew it was a miracle he hadn't been fired.

But lucky for him, he had a pretty face and the shop was understaffed.

So, after four weeks of employment (and the owner realized he was simply untrainable in the art of coffee) Satoru became the designated cashier and eye candy during his shifts.

It suited him and gave him an opening for routine visits with Suguru during his shifts, so long as no customer went unattended or tables un-bussed.

“Suguruuu,” Satoru droned in that whiny, higher pitch that he knew drove his friend up the wall, “I’m boreddd.”

“Satoruuu,” he mocked, “you’ve only been here for an hour.”

“Yeah, and there's nothing to do.” He pouted. He didn't miss his friend’s (mostly) playful eye roll.

“I’m sure you have something to clean.”

“Nuh uh.”

“The table six feet in front of me thinks otherwise.” Satoru responded with a grumbled “shut up,” but made no move to bus the table. “Satoru, you have to start taking this more seriously. Your parents will be livid if they find out you got fired.”

“I don't care what they think.”

“You need their money—I know you didn't forget your deal that fast.” He could only huff at his friend, knowing that he was right. Satoru’s parents agreed to financially support him and his high maintenance life under the condition that he remain employed; they would cover his portion of rent, utilities, and any emergencies so long as he held down this job for one year. “If you're late on rent, I’m kicking you out.”

“No fair!”

“Fine, just a late fee. Then I’ll evict you.”

“Calm down. They're not firing me. I’m too handsome–it brings in too much business.” Satoru joked with a thumb pointing to the boyish smile adorning his face.

“Yes—that’s why the café is just bustling.” Suguru mocked. The café was entirely empty save for them and the barista that went on her break twenty minutes ago. Satoru decided to not be annoyed at her fifteen turning to a twenty—maybe twenty five. 

He had certainly done worse.

The pair fell into silence for a moment as Suguru began typing away at his laptop, and Satoru restlessly tapped his foot, fingers, and anything else within his reach.

“Satoru. Do you mind?”

“I'm still boredddd!” he cried.

“Well, you'll have to find something to occupy yourself today. I’m working on my class project with my partner today.”

“I don't see them.” Satoru playfully tried closing his laptop. “Looks like you’ll just have to hang out with me instead.”

“She's running a little late.” He swatted his hands away, “And you're in her seat.” 

“You're no fun.” He huffed, crossing his arms and pouting.

“Ow, how will I ever regain your high opinion, your majesty?” He dramatically grasped at his chest, leaning back slightly in his chair in mock pain. “Seriously, man, get up, she just walked in, and unlike you, we plan to get some work done today.”

Satoru grumbled, mocking his friend as he stood up from his chair and pushed it under the table. He complained all the way back to his spot behind the register, where he leaned against the counter with his head propped against his hand, looking utterly bored.

“Excuse me?”

Oh right, you probably wanted to order. Maybe he really did need to pay more attention to his job.

“Sorry about that! What can I…” In an instant, Satoru’s heart grew wings and fluttered violently around his ribcage. It felt nauseating.

Why had Suguru never talked about you before?

And fuck you looked at him like he grew six eyes before he realized he was staring like an utter fool. He tried to recover with a casual clearing of his throat and a fake cough into his elbow. “Sorry! Allergies—what can I get started for you?”

“Just a black coffee, thanks.”

“Of course!” He put on his prettiest smile and smoothest voice for you. “It’s on the house today.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.” Satoru turned around to pour the coffee, feeling comfortable in his hand eye coordination to handle pouring the cup of coffee despite his lack of comprehension of its intricacies. He tried to ignore how casual you were, seemingly unphased by a kind gesture from a handsome stranger. By the time he finished obsessing to turn back around and hand you the cup, you were already sitting at the table with Suguru, the warmest smile he had ever seen with his own eyes pulling at your cheeks and leaving a shimmer in the room.

There was an unusual feeling boiling in his stomach as he approached you with the mug. Why did Suguru get such a sweet smile and he hardly got an acknowledgment? 

That wasn't how it usually went.

“Here’s that coffee for you,” Satoru approached the table, not missing the suspicious look in Suguru’s eyes as he obviously took note of the effort he put in to bring your drink to the table. The few times Satoru has had to make a drink (only ever black coffee, tea, or ice water), he sits it on the pick up counter and calls out the order name, regardless of it being dine-in or to go. He also knew his friend picked up on his rush to bus the messy table, only because it put him in your direct line of sight, but you could not seem to care less.

He wanted your attention.

It was rather odd—Satoru typically had no issues holding a woman’s attention.

But he could wait. He was patient.

Three hours was about all he could manage.

To his benefit, that was the end of his shift, and he was forced to stand there while you sat in beautiful concentration and occasionally conversed with Suguru. He hoped you would come up for a refill, maybe a pastry; it did nothing for him, since you only left your seat once to use the restroom, asking Suguru where to find it rather than himself, which stirred that vicious feeling in his gut again.

He was clocking out, removing his apron, and about to leave when he heard what he had been waiting for from you for the last miserable three hours: “I'm going to head out, same time tomorrow?”

“You got it.” Suguru beamed at you, offering you a small wave after you packed your belongings away and pushed in your chair. 

You smiled again.

“Suguru!” Satoru exclaimed once you closed the door and crossed the street. His friend only groaned in response. “You didn't tell me she was hot!”

That elicited a small chuckle from him. “I didn't think it was important.”

“Why haven't you told me about her?”

“There's nothing to tell, Satoru. She's my research partner. I barely talk to her outside of class.”

“But you do talk to her!” His eyes lit up in excitement. “You have to set me up, dude.”

“Really?” Another laugh. Was he taunting him? “Why would I do that? We both know your history, Satoru, and I'm not having you run her off before we finish our project.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” He whined.

Sure, maybe, Satoru had a history in high school of being a player but that was the old him and he told Suguru as much.

“You mean, like, two months ago?”

“That's still old! And it's been longer than two months! C’mon man, you gotta help me out here.”

“Why do you care so much? She didn't look very interested.”

“Exactly! You know hard to get is my type! And look at her!” He gestured wildly up and down with his hands.

“And you wonder why she wasn't fawning over you.”

“Suguruuu, pleaseee! I’ll clean the kitchen for a month.”

“You already owe me two months of that for the last two favors you asked me.” The bastard was having fun with this, it was obvious in his smug grin. But Satoru’s annoying whiny voice and pleading eyes did the trick, like they did every time. “Fine. I guess I can invite her over to the apartment for a study session—”

“YES!”

“Hang on. You have to promise me that you won’t make a move until our project is done. You're not going to fuck up my grade.”

“Deal.”

“And—”

“Ughhh, what else?”

“She’s pretty cool. Don't fuck her over.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Suguru was true to his word, for the most part. Rather than meeting at the café the next day, you were invited to their shared apartment at noon—the same time that Satoru’s five-hour shift started.

He could've killed him.

And during every grueling moment of his shift, where he was scheduled with Utahime, who refused to chat with him and instead opted to spend her five hour shift scrubbing down the baseboards with a rag and hot water. That only took two hours. Then she began moving fridges, the whole fucking espresso machine and every single other shelf, syrup rack and bottle on the counters to clean under. All to avoid having to speak with him.

To say Satoru was bored out of his mind was an understatement.

He remained as such until exactly five o’clock, when Shoko came to relieve him. She never showed up a minute early or late.

As he clocked out, there was a message waiting for him.

Suguru

4:27pm

yo, can you pick up a twelve pack on your way? 

Satoru

5:03pm

depends

Suguru

5:03pm

on?

Satoru 

5:04pm

how you plan on making up w me after your little private study sess >:(

Suguru

5:05pm

ugh you're so dramatic. she’s staying for dinner, dumbass. 

you're welcome

Satoru made it to the convenience store and back home in record time.

He walked through the front door, after checking his hair in his phone camera to make sure it was still perfectly mussed, with a grin on his face and a twelve pack in hand.

He was ready to extend a greeting to you when he realized his, perhaps fatal, mistake.

He never asked for your name.

Suguru must have realized the dire circumstances Satoru found himself in, because he quickly introduced you and gave no hint at the ridiculously foolish crush he seemed to be harboring for you after half of a conversation and a few lovesick glances.

You replied with a casual, “Hey,” and a close-lipped smile, and Satoru felt his knees weaken.

“We were just about to order dinner, you good with pizza?”

“Hell yeah.”

NOVEMBER 2007 –

Autumn came and went as all seasons before; suddenly. And so, in similar fashion, winter began creeping in as the calendar flipped to November, leaving more of a chill in the air with each passing day.

You were swept away in a wave of classes, homework, projects, and newfound friendships—most notably (and the least expected) being Suguru, Shoko, and Satoru. 

Suguru was perhaps the sweetest boy you had met in college. He was considerate of you, never toeing the line of being anything more than your friend; he worked hard with you on your project, and you majorly credited him and his tutoring to your current passing grade in Yaha’s biology class. You frequently met at the local café just off campus for coffee and the occasional blueberry scone where Satoru was almost always working. It was difficult for you to connect with others, your more impassive demeanor leading others to believe you were catty or rude. Suguru never seemed to think that of you, always being a comforting, warm contrast to you. You were grateful to have him as your friend. 

Him letting you braid his hair was merely an added bonus.

Shoko became another close, deeply loved friend to you. She was at Suguru and Satoru’s apartment almost as frequently as you (any chance to escape dorm life was welcomed), and while she was almost as slow opening up to strangers as you, she was never anything less than loving and kind. You joined her for her smoke breaks on the patio, you listened to her gossip about friends or work or class—anything and everything under the sun. When you sprained your ankle in the middle of September (an incident involving copious amounts of liquor and an electric scooter that she did not hesitate to gently mock you for), she wrapped your ankle every day for a week and a half and mothered you until she believed you were clear to resume your normal activities. You decided against telling her it would still hurt a little after climbing stairs or wearing sandals.

And Satoru… well, he was Satoru; always toeing over the line between friendly and flirtatious, always back and forth, hot and cold, clingy and distant depending on the day. You were more unfamiliar with him than Suguru and Shoko. Not to say you were not fond of him—he always knew how to make you laugh. His inattentive personality always guaranteed entertainment, a dull moment never being a thought with him, and he was certainly charismatic despite him seeming overall an enigma to you—an unusual mix of obvious transparency yet never beyond a surface level. While you knew he would like to believe otherwise, he was blatant in his initial affections for you. That only lasted through the middle of October, where he seemed to realize his advances went unnoticed. He put the pieces together when Shoko mentioned your boyfriend back home and dropped the notion altogether. 

That was one thing you could always credit him for—he knew when it was time to stop; whether it was a joke, a game, his excitable energy, or anything else for that matter. While his antics were an essential part of his personality, Satoru was still mature and empathetic in spite of his best effort to prove otherwise. The playful flirting was still present from both of you, but never more than just that—playful, but enough to maintain a gray area that left you confused more often than not.

Still, you cared for him, in spite of his flaws and the confusing nature of your friendship.

And his horrible latte-making skills.

You had to give him credit for trying, and there certainly was improvement from his first drink, but the espresso always tasted burned and the milk was a little cold and lacking any sort of aeration or foam. 

You just didn't have the heart to tell him.

Suguru, however, certainly did.

“Satoru, you've worked here for how long now? How did you manage to make a steamer taste burned?”

“Okay, Karen, I’ll remake it for you.”

“No, I will.” Shoko piped up from behind the counter. It was one of the rare shifts that the manager had no option but to schedule Shoko and Satoru together—an occurrence you found she tried desperately to avoid, knowing that you and Suguru would be in the café and distracting the two for the duration of the shift. But, with the majority of her other staff having taken off for the upcoming holidays or cramming for exams, she had little option.

“Thank you, Shoko.” You couldn't help but sympathize with your friend, despite his disdain for anything interpreted as pity. The stress of exams seemed to weigh heavily on him. “It’s a miracle you're still employed, man.”

“Hey! I already told you, I’m just the eye candy.”

Shoko scoffed from behind the counter, earning a grumpy look in her direction.

“As if.” You taunted, never tearing your gaze from your laptop.

“Soooo…” Satoru began, changing the topic of conversation away from mockery at his expense, “Are you guys going to Utahime’s party tomorrow?”

“Are you sure she even invited you? I thought she hated you.”

“Pssh, what're you talking about? She loves me!” He replied, which earned him an incredulous look from the three of you. “And anyway, I’m Suguru’s plus one.”

“You are?”

Before he could question further, Satoru turned his attention to you, “Are you going?”

“Oh, I really don't know… I have to study for my exams.”

“Oh, c’monnnn,” He whined, “You can take one night to have fun. You've been glued to that thing for days now.” To emphasize his point, Satoru closed your computer, leaving you thankful for the auto-save feature on your document.

You felt torn, wanting to enjoy an evening with your friends but also needing to prioritize your studies. You were dangerously underprepared and couldn’t risk less than perfection on your exam.

But what’s one night?

“Okay, fine. But only for a couple hours, then I’m coming home to study.”

Satoru threw his fist in the air as a sign of victory, finally leaving your personal space to return behind the counter where he was finishing his closing duties for the night. From what you've been told, he always seemed to work harder when you were around, though you couldn't understand why.

“It’ll be good for you to get out.” Suguru commented with a soft look in his eyes, “You’ve been pretty closed off since the break-up.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I know. It’s just weird, I guess. The distance and all made things hard, but…”

“Hey, I get it.” He reached out to gently rub your shoulder, knowing these conversations were far from your strong suit. “This’ll be good for you. I’ll make sure you have someone to talk to.”

“Thank you, Sugu.”

Shoko came around a moment later with a latte in one hand and a steamer in the other. She sat them on the table and threw a wink in your direction, seemingly noticing even behind the counter that your original drink sat untouched. You usually ordered a black coffee when Satoru was at the espresso bar (which you still received a few questionable cups of), but he was insistent on making your latte today, claiming to have been practicing just for you. He had been more distant than clingy lately, and could not help but cave to the sudden attention he was showing you.

That was something else about Satoru—you found yourself craving his approval after a short time of his friendship. It was a realization that you would never make apparent to him for fear of inflating his ego or exasperating his behavior, and one that frustrated you to no end. Never before had you craved attention in such a way, not even from your ex-boyfriend, who, in all honesty, was wholly inattentive and unaffectionate even before the distance.

You spared a moment from your laptop to watch him behind the counter as he cleaned underneath syrup racks and jugs of chocolate and realized you knew little to nothing about Satoru Gojo. 

“Who knows, maybe you’ll find someone there.” There was a look in Suguru’s eye that gave the missing context to his words.

You scoffed, “As if. You know that’s not quite my scene.”

“I’m just saying.” he replied, throwing his hands up in defense, “You could probably do with a little stress relief. You haven’t gone anywhere other than your dorm, my place, or here in weeks. Let loose a bit.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” 

As promised, you arrived at the party already one drink in, and with a six pack of your favorite beer after asking Utahime what the drink selection would be like. She rattled off a list of various spirits that you knew would leave you hungover, miserable, and unable to resume your studies in the morning.

It was more crowded than you expected.

In fact, it was nearly shoulder to shoulder as you made your way through the house to find a spot in the fridge to sit your drinks. What should have been a thirty-second walk to the kitchen turned into a three-minute debacle. After being stopped by two drunken classmates who were shocked to see you while you were finding an empty couch to lay your coat and weaving through a dozen or so bodies, you finally made it to the fridge. Unsurprisingly, it was stuffed full of snacks, bottled water, sodas, and a dozen or so bottles of rum, whiskey, vodka and who-knows-what-else meaning you had to remove each individual bottle from the box to find an opening for them, leaving one out for you to start on.

With your head in the fridge and being entirely unaware of your surroundings, you were startled when you heard your name called, resulting in you slamming your head straight into the top of the fridge before you straightened and turned around. There was no concealing your embarrassment as you came face-to-face with the originator.

And you weren’t shocked to find him stifling a laugh.

“Thanks for that, Gojo.” You knew he hated it when you called him that.

“Wow, so it’s like that? And here I was, about to offer you a drink.” You raised the opened bottle in your hand to show your lack of necessity for one. “Bleh, I don’t know how you drink that shit.” “I could say the same for you. I think I saw you adding simple syrup to your drink when I came in.”

“It was only like three pu—wait, you did not!”

“Gotcha.” You flashed him a smile, and for a moment thought he looked mildly uncomfortable as he cleared his throat. “You’re too predictable, Gojo.”

“Nooooo, you know I hate it when you call me that.” He whined, playfully stamping his feet in a way that indicated he probably already had more than one drink. It was difficult to tell with him, considering the more wild side of his personality shone brightest in crowds. He was an extrovert through and through.

“Don’t give me a reason to call you that.”

“You’re so mean.” He pouted, a sultry undertone lacing his voice.

“You love it, though.” You teased, looking up at him underneath your lashes.

It felt unusual, the banter between you. What felt more unusual was the one-on-one interaction. For a moment, you couldn't place why until you realized you hadn’t had a single interaction with Satoru where Shoko or Suguru wasn’t around as a buffer in more than a month. In fact, he had been mostly absent since you broke things off with your boyfriend.

Was he avoiding you?

“Yeah, it’s pretty hot.” His cheeks were flushed but he did not backtrack.

“Shut up,” you blushed, rolling your eyes in feigned annoyance. “Where’s Suguru?”

“That eager to get rid of me?”

“Yes—where is he?”

“No clue, but I think Shoko’s around somewhere.”

“Thanks, pretty boy.” He grew even more red, if possible.

Maneuvering around the bodies in the dining room with two drinks in your hand (one for you and one for Shoko)  and leaving behind a mildly flustered Satoru, you found her exactly where you expected—outside by the bonfire with a cigarette in her lips and a blissed look in her eyes that told you she’d had more than just alcohol. You called out to her, and she smiled at you, waving her hand over to invite you to sit beside her. You tried not to laugh as her cigarette fell from her lips to the ground.

“Hey, girl!” She called out to you. “So glad you made it out!”

You gave a polite nod and smile, settling in beside her as the conversation resumed around you but mostly without you. You didn’t mind much; you were content with not having to navigate the interaction with people you didn’t know. You made a few comments here and there, mostly responding to polite questions and statements towards you.

“What’s your name? “What’re you studying?”

“I haven’t seen you around before.” “Oh! You’re friends with Geto and Gojo, right?”

“You’re in Yaga’s class, right? He’s such a hardass!”

It was enjoyable for a few moments, but after twenty or so minutes, the conversation seemed to leave you behind for the most part. 

When your drink was empty and you were comfortably buzzed, you took that as your sign to be leaving. Shoko tried to give pushback but resigned to expressing gratitude that you came out to begin with.

“If you see Suguru, tell him I’m sorry I missed him.” You slurred. “You got it!”

You weren’t sure what possessed you to brave the treacherous navigation of the house when you could have circled around to the front yard—something like one more beer and a couple of crackers calling your name before leaving, or whatever other excuse your tipsy mind convinced you of. Regardless, you found yourself back at the fridge with another drink in your hand that was disappearing in an alarming amount of time.

“I didn’t think you had it in you.”

How did he keep finding you?

“Gojo.”

“Satoru,” he whined, “What did I do to deserve that one?”

“My head still hurts.” “Hey! I didn’t make you hit your head.” 

“Then I’m preparing for the next time you're bad.”

“C’mon, you know I stay on my best behavior for you.” And there were those damn puppy dog eyes, only there for a moment as you could feel him switch to watching you in mild concern as you tipped your head back to take another long swig. “Ya know, when we said you needed to let loose a bit, we did only mean a bit.”

“I’ve only had a bit.” He made a sound to indicate he didn’t believe you as he leaned against the fridge door. “And besides, I’m leaving now.”

“You didn’t drive, did you?”

“No, I just walked. It’s not far.”

“Wait,” Looking embarrassed at his eagerness, “I can take you home. You live on campus, right?”

“Are you sure? You looked like you were having a pretty good time. And wait—haven’t you been drinking?”

“I barely touched the one I had. Too strong. Scouts honor.” He lazily raised three fingers and folded his thumb over his pinky. “I was going to DD for Suguru, but he found someone to leave with. I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Wow, so you really do just act like this all the time.”

“Mean.”

“You know you love it.” And there was that flush in his cheeks again.

The ride to your dorm was relatively quiet. Upbeat pop music played softly in the background as Satoru kept both of his eyes glued to the road, being on high alert for the possibility of drunk drivers on a Friday night. It felt comfortable, you thought. Your moments with Satoru were few and far between these days—you would be willing to wager that tonight was the most one-on-one time you had spent with him in more than a month. Perhaps it was the alcohol talking, but you couldn’t help but feel insecure about it. Were you that miserable that Satoru Gojo, the extrovert to end all extroverts, could only handle your company with a buffer? It certainly could not have been the case, considering his apparent willingness to drive you home. Then again, he knew how close you were with Suguru, and despite his arrogance, Satoru was a good person. He wouldn’t let you walk home alone when it was so late, Suguru would be livid.

Right?

Too lost in thought to notice he was already parked in front of your building, Satoru softly spoke your name. “You good?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just tired. Thanks for the lift.” You began to reach for your keys in your coat pocket when you realized that you were not wearing your coat. Unable to hide your frustration at your blatant forgetfulness, you groaned loudly and threw your head back.

“What’s wrong?” “I left my keys in my coat pocket at Utahime’s, and my roommate isn’t home.”

“I can just take you to mine and Suguru’s place.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. I’m sure I’ve got something that’ll fit you.”

It was only another eight minutes to the apartment, but it felt like the longest drive of your life, unable to stifle the anxiety building in your gut. In the most casual tone you could muster, you offered him an out. “You can drop me back at the party or something if you need; I don’t want to intrude.” Satoru looked at you with pure astonishment. “You could never.” He said it with such sincerity, a rather rare sentiment from him.

Upon your arrival at his apartment, Satoru kicked off his shoes and wandered to the fridge, and you made yourself comfortable on the couch. He returned to you in the living room with a beer in one hand and a can of grape soda in the other. He handed you the beer with a silent question posed as a raised eyebrow, asking if you wanted another. You accepted with a polite nod.

He joined you on the couch, sitting close enough that you could feel his body heat and throwing an arm around the back. You could smell his cologne, slightly musky with a hint of vanilla and something signature to Satoru and only Satoru. He leaned his head back and inhaled deeply. You couldn’t keep yourself from staring at his Adam's apple as it bobbed up and down, looking altogether tempting from your position. It was comfortably silent as the two of you sat on the couch together, breathing in the comfort of each other’s scent. You entirely forgot about your previous anxieties, recalling the familiarity of his presence and enjoying the remnants of your buzz.

“I’m glad you came out tonight.” His head never raised, and you stared at his throat as he spoke—his milky skin that never seemed to tan no matter how much time he spent in the sun, the wisps of hair that flipped in all directions by his ears and the nape of his neck, the barely visible shaved sides of his neatly trimmed undercut, the sharpness of his collarbones that peeked out from his t-shirt. 

He looked… tempting.

In that moment, you understood why he was so desired. Half of the girls in your college sought after him, despite him not being a student.

Suguru’s comment from the day before rang in your ears.

“Who knows, maybe you’ll find someone there.”

You realized too late that you forgot to respond. “I can feel you staring, ya know?” 

“Don’t flatter yourself.” “I don’t need to. You’re doing it for me.” He finally rested his gaze on you but still never moved his head, only cutting a lazy sideways glance in your direction. Even in the dim lamplight of the living room, his eyes were all consuming. You didn’t think you had ever seen them so up close. You thought for a moment that he held an ocean in his eyes—it was the only explanation for their unnatural, almost more than human hue. Maybe he was just Satoru Gojo, and his name alone was enough to blur the lines between possible and impossible.

It was infuriating.

(Or maybe you had more to drink than you thought.)

“What else am I doing for you?” You purred. Everything in your mind screamed this was a bad idea, that you were about to leap over the line of playful and purposeful, but you couldn’t stop yourself—not when he snuck half-second glances at your lips, and his own looked so soft as they parted slightly with a small line of spit keeping them connected.

“I could show you better than tell you.” His tongue came out to wet his lips, and his teeth bit down on the lower slightly. Despite your focus on the sight, you didn’t miss the way his hips slightly shifted and his legs spread out a little wider.

It was intentional.

“C’mon then, Gojo. Don’t keep me waiting.”

He inched closer, a large hand coming to cup your check as he shifted his arm from the couch cushion to wrap around your waist and pull you into his side. “You know what to call me.”

“I think you can show me better than tell me.” 

The tension snapped. Self control was a distant thought of a forgotten memory as Satoru utterly devoured you. The two of you were a mess of teeth and tongues and wandering hands as he trailed from your check to gently rest on your throat. He brought his thumb around and offered a hesitant squeeze to your throat to gauge your reaction. You assumed he found what he was looking for in the low moan you released because he applied the perfect amount of pressure—enough to make your mind fuzzy but not so much to cause discomfort, and you let out a choked moan that made him smile evilly against your lips.

“I always knew you’d be into this.” He pulled slightly away from you, lightly increasing the pressure applied against your throat to hold you in place as you tried chasing his lips. “Ah, ah.” He pulled farther away, making a point to raise his head high enough that he cut his eyes to look down on you. “What are you supposed to call me?”

“Satoru.” You purred.

“Good girl.” He cooed, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He pulled you into his lap, and you knew he was blissfully unaware that you had him right where you wanted him. You hovered just above the growing hardness in his pants, ignoring his pawing hands guiding you down.

“Don't be a brat.” He emphasized it with a slap to your ass. You could feel the skin turning red.

It made you feel spiteful.

Adding to your spite was Suguru, who was fumbling with his key just outside of the front door. He must have dropped them three times and spent another few seconds searching for the right one to unlock the door; it was fortunate for you, considering the compromising position you found yourself in at the moment. Satoru immediately threw you off of him and shot up to run to his bedroom, the tent in his jeans so painfully obvious that even Suguru in his piss drunk state would have caught on.

Whether or not he would catch your flushed cheeks and overall airlessness was yet to be determined.

“Satoruu!” He called through the apartment, “How many times do I have to tell you to lock the door behind you?”

“Sorry, was a bit distracted,” he replied, far too casually for you to feel content with what just happened. You were still out of breath. “Someone left their keys at Utahime’s, she’s gonna crash here tonight. Anyway, I thought I saw you leaving?

“Yeah, to grab food.” Suguru hiccuped, “What do you think I am, a whore?”

“Well, yeah.”

He only responded to that with an eye roll, “I’m throwing up and going to bed. Have a good night.” He said your name, still unaware of your flustered state, “You know where the extra blankets are, I’ve got clothes in the dryer if you need ‘em.”

“Thanks, Sugu.”

JULY 2008 —

Your freshman year felt like it was over before it ever truly began. You stayed swept up in schoolwork and classes following winter break, practically suffocating in it.

Suguru and Shoko stayed a life saving constant for you. They never faulted you when you had to cancel plans, and Suguru even offered to do your homework if it meant it would take a weight off your shoulders. Of course, you declined, but the offer nearly brought you to tears. Being himself, he brushed it off as nothing and made you well aware it was an open, no strings attached offer. Shoko was there for several near catastrophic breakdowns, being a comforting presence and refusing to let you bum a cigarette from her, instead offering you a beer or your favorite scone from the cagé—you were thankful she didn't allow you to compromise your health like that.

And Satoru… well, he was still Satoru but in a different light.

You never talked about what happened.

You never talked about the other times it almost happened, either.

You never mentioned that it was why you stopped drowning in schoolwork at his and Suguru’s apartment and stayed in your dorm more often than not.

You never asked him if it meant anything, knowing the answer already. You knew he ebbed and flowed in his own ununderstandable ways, and you knew you couldn't subject yourself to his fickle personality as anything more than a friend. You also knew better than to question him, holding out for the moments that he was more on than off.

But still, things changed.

More often than not, he trailed after you like a puppy, always seeking your approval or praise and switching back to giving you free coffees when he was on shift. You knew it meant nothing, since he started doing the same for Shoko and Suguru. The end of his mandatory employment was rapidly approaching, and he couldn't be bothered to care about the repercussions—they were nothing to him; who would fire the great Satoru Gojo and risk the wrath of his obscenely affluent family? There were times he would bring your favorite latte to you, regardless of if you were in your dorm or at his apartment. There were times he brought a blueberry scone too—if the café was out, he brought you peach instead.

The flirting never stopped. It also never increased but it was charged, with the feeling of his hands around your throat, and the taste of his lips and tongue. If you focused on the moment hard enough, you could still remember the rasp in his voice when he called you “good girl.”

It was painful.

It was nothing in comparison to the line of women he consistently brought to the apartment, regardless of your presence.

It made you sick—not from unrequited affection (or so you told yourself) but from the implication that you were only a failed conquest; the confirmation that Satoru would only do as Satoru pleased, and you were a placeholder between his hookups or failed talking stages.

Still, he was your friend. Still, you cared. Still, you were lost without him.

And still, he was dreadful at lattes.

And nevertheless, you waited and waited for his call and never took more than a moment to respond, both of you trailing after each other in an endless (not) lovesick circle like lost puppies.

You realized it was rather pathetic when you picked up on the first ring.

“Hey, you.”

“Hey, 'Toru.” 

“Are you busy?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“What are you about to ask for?”

“You. Suguru’s out for the night.”

“I’ll be there in thirty.”

For all nineteen years of wisdom that Satoru possessed, you wondered if he could see what he was doing to you. 

(accidentally made this SAD., my apologies!! i will not be changing,. anyway, updating to add sneak peak of pt 2 :3)

[wilcze-kudly]

The Gaang being 'bad parents' didn't ruin their characters.

I've seen this argument tossed around a couple times and it's honestly one of my least favourite criticisms of lok.

Katara (and Sokka but we have no confirmed kids for him, which seems unrealistic with how much game he had) lost their mother as children and their father was forced to abandon them when they were barely starting their teens. They were raised by their grandmother with little to no peers of their own age.

Aang did not know his parents and a huge chunk of his childhood was him being groomed into taking up the mantle of the avatar and mastering airbending. He also was isolated from other kids his age. His closest parental figure was Gyatso who was more of a teacher than a father. Also the Air Nomads were literally wiped out so that adds to the trauma pile.

I really don't think i have to talk about Zuko's family life here, but at least he had relatively positive parental figures in the form of Ursa (though i do have a burning personal dislike of ursa) and Iroh. Despite this his struggle around the subject of his family and his trauma relating to his upbringing was a focal point of his character arc.

Toph was raised in isolation by her asshole abelist parents who did not listen to her, sent people to capture and bring her back and then disowned her. (If my cursory understanding of 'the rift' is correct, I need to actually read it because i am unreasonably obsessed with the Beifong family.)

Where, pray tell, were they supposed to learn proper parenting skills? On their brief stint as child soldiers? While fighting a war as literal children?

There is the argument that they must've matured later in their lives, of course. But you can only recover so much from copious amounts of childhood trauma.

Being a bad parent doesn't necessarily make you a bad person. Sure it makes you a failure in an incredibly delicate and important aspect of human life but it doesn't make you a bad person. And saying that it does takes a lot of nuance out of the conversation.

Like, do you know how easy it is to fuck up a child?

Especially that the ways the members of the Gaang 'fucked up' as parents feel mostly in character.

Bumi was going to face some struggles with self worth due to being the firstborn child of the Avatar and arguably one of the most powerful waterbenders in history, while being a nonbender himself. That much was unavoidable, no matter how his parents approached the issue.

And Aang was obviously going to be over the moon when Tenzin was born. Think about it. He's literally the last of his people. He has no one else 'like him'. No one else to pass down the traditions, the teachings that Gyatso and everyone else he cared about and who were horrifically murdered to. Aang is getting older and he feels like his culture and history and his entire life before he got trapped in that damned iceberg will die along with him. And then Tenzin is born and Tenzin can take up the mantle that had been thrust upon Aang.

I'm going to withhold my judgement on Izumi and Zuko, since we barely know anything about them. She seems well adjusted but that's all i can say right now. But Zuko has also been shown to be extremely, painfully aware of how fucked up his family is and has clearly been putting in a lot of work to unscrew what his ancestors have screwed up.

Toph situation feels very tragic to me,because it's obvious that she thought she thought she was doing better than her parents. She gave her daughters the freedom to do what they want, to not feel opressed and trapped like she had. How was she supposed to know that she was making her girls feel like she didn't love them? (Here's another post of mine about the Beifong family and how they just feel like they're cursed or something at this point.)

TLDR; I get annoyed by people saying that the Gaang being 'bad parents' ruined their characters, because to me it felt like it actually enhanced them.

Neither Aang nor Toph acted out of malice or a lack of love. On the contrary, Toph was trying not to repeat her parents mistakes, accidentally committing a bunch of her own. While Aang probably didn't even realise that he was neglecting Kya and Bumi.

But just loving your children doesn't always make you a good parent.

I think these flaws only add to them as characters. It makes them feel more real.

It's unrealistic and, frankly, just plain boring to go 'oh the Gaang were all good people so they would be good parents too.'

The Gaang were a gaggle of traumatised children forced into saving the world, because the adults around them failed them, that then grew into traumatised adults who have no idea how to be good parents.

[witchthewriter]

𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑶𝑵𝑬: 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐈𝐀𝐅 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞

a/n: I will be doing this by House! Also, yes it doesn't make sense timeline wise but think of each as an alternate universe ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑮𝑨𝑹𝒀𝑬𝑵

𝑫𝒂𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒔 | 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒔

・She did as she promised and liberated Westeros.

・No Mad Queen, but sacrifices were made. However, all three of her dragons survived.

・The Long Night was vanquished because Dany was The Prince Who Was Promised.

・In a turn of events, Viserion was not a male dragon. Dany didn't have three sons... she had two and a daughter!

・Viserion laid her clutch of eggs not far from Dany as she wanted her to be the first person to see them.

・Her clutch of eggs produced three beautiful dragons; the biggest was a deep blue with flecks of gold and bronze. The second was a gorgeous pink egg with light orange accents and the last was purple with pearlescent swirling details.

・Dany became a grandmother and as soon as she saw them hatch, she cried.

・Barely anyone was allowed to see the dragonlings; even though she had risen to power, she still felt the eyes of enemies on her back. Many would love to hurt these new dragons.

・Dany still did not have a pregnancy that came to full term; so her dragons were truly her legacy, with Viserion keeping the magic back in the world.

・The hatching of these new eggs made the realm respect her even more.

・She didn't have a traditional way of ruling; yes she had councilors, and a small council.

・But the wealth was distributed equally. With smallfolk able to have jobs and acquire ones that usually only nobles had.

・Speaking of small councils, she had two of her closest bloodriders, Greyworm, Missendai (yes she is alive, well and thriving), Ellaria Sand and Samwell Tarly (Gilly and their son live in the Red Keep).

・As Dany could not have biological human children of her own, she basically saw every child/orphan as her own, in some way or another. She saw herself in them. Her childhood of always on the run, dirty clothes, knotted hair, clasping her brother's hand.

・She didn't want that for any child.

・So Dany spent a lot of her time building safe houses, schools, places where children could go and feel seen, heard and feel protected.

・A different Westeros was forming and many did not like that. Uprisings were frequent. Always from the Faith of the Seven & the old nobles.

・But every time they were stopped. However, those that repeated were thrown into prison (and therefore used to create new buildings) or were put to death.

(P.s., Ellaria Sand is her book self, not her show self because they are entirely different. Some events from the show never happened because it made no sense for Dany to wait so long to break the wheel.)

𝑹𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒏𝒚𝒓𝒂 | 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑸𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒔

・She won against her brother and sat the Iron Throne with a tired heart. Rhaenyra lost a lot more than she could handle and her days were spent fighting off her grief.

・That did not stop her from being the best queen she could be.

・Her energy was given to the people, to the dragons and to the restructure of House Targaryen.

・Since the Greens had nearly torn what it was to be a Targaryen, Rhaenyra had a lot to do. So, she depended on those who were loyal to her. Baela, Addam, Corlys, etc.

・Oh, and not to forget Syrax.

・Syrax kept a lot of people in check when they came to court.

・As the dragon pit was partially destroyed (the dragons were okay though, they survived, help came just in time!) the living dragons now roamed to find a proper place to live. Dragonstone became a lot more populated.

・The love of the dragons would be reintroduced. One way she would do that, would be to reinstate the idolisation of the dragons. I.e., basically showing off the dragons.

・So, more royal processions atop dragons.

・As a skilled dragonrider herself, Rhaenyra may have placed greater emphasis on the role of dragons and their riders in the defense and governance of the realm.

・It would not always be easy. Especially with the fact that Rhaenyra's rise to power involved the killing of her own nephew, Aegon II. This would cast a long shadow over her reign and create lingering resentment among some factions.

・But through the influence of Mysaria, the smallfolk and those less fortunate would definitely be focused on. No more fighting pits! (Let's remember that Aegon frequented them...)

・Additionally, through Rhaenyra's victory, there would be a shift in the balance of power among the noble houses. For example; The Hightowers, who backed Aegon II, might have lost influence, while the Velaryons and other supporters of Rhaenyra might have gained prominence. This is all up in the air however, as Rhaenyra did have a forgiving heart... (I mean, before all the war...)

・What I know to be true, is that Rhaenyra would have maintained a strong dragon presence in King's Landing. Positively - this would have deterred potential threats and rebellions. And also led to a more prominent role for the dragonriders in the governance of the realm.

𝑹𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒏𝒚𝒔 | 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑸𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝑾𝒂𝒔

・Is in history books as one of the best rulers

・Balanced, open-minded and level-headed; Rhaenys didn't need a council - she was one all on her own.

・She grew up never thinking she would rule; so she was quiet and watched everyone's moves

・The Sea Snake was a brilliant King-Consort, still the leader of Driftmark

・Meleys was truly The Red Queen; her own horns and spikes resembled Rhaenys' crown and when they were together, they were utterly breathtaking

・As said before with the others, with Rhaenys and her dragon, Meleys, in a position of power, the presence of dragons would have been more pronounced in the governance of the realm. This could have deterred potential rebellions and solidified her authority

・A lot of her reign would reflect her own grandmother's - The Good Queen Alysanne. 100% Rhaenys would continue with the women's councils.

・The women of Westeros would be given opportunities. I think Rhaenys would take a lot of inspiration from Dorne. And how women were equal to men, because why the hell not?

・And as a dragon rider, who was going to tell her no? Meleys was definitely not about to let anyone defy her either.

・However, one of her greatest allies was the North.

・And due to the North's historical resistance to female leadership, her ability to assert authority and govern effectively would sway Northern lords to reconsider their biases against women on the throne.

・So, by demonstrating strong leadership, it fostered greater acceptance of her rule among Northern houses, and increased their loyalty.

・This is only one example of how she got herself written in the history books.

𝑩𝒂𝒆𝒍𝒂 | 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑸𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒌𝒊𝒆𝒔

・Known for her bravery and strong character, Baela brought a fresh perspective to the Iron Throne. She prioritized unity among tTeam Black and Team Green and those that chose between Rhaenyra and Aegon.

・Baela addressed the grievances from various houses and the common folk alike - making a more equitable society.

・Jace's death was a great grief. As was ... basically all her family. It was quickly pushed forward that she needed to marry.

・Baela shut that shit down quick.

・She swore that if she were to marry, she would choose who and when.

・The scars left by the civil war were still fresh in the minds of many houses. Those that aligned with the Greens, sought to undermine Baela's rule, viewing her as a representative of the Blacks. This historical animosity had led to plots and conspiracies aimed at destabilizing her reign

・But it is mainly through the dragons that Baela remained in control. As charming, bold and brave Baela can be, Moondancer ... reinforced people's loyalty. With the death of the majority of Team Green as well as their dragons, there was only other Houses to oppose her.

・She was also known as 'Our Queen of the Skies'. And after ruling for more than 20 years, the people saw Baela as a goddess.

・Some say she was part dragon herself, with how much she was in the air, flying on Moondancer (who many, many children adored.)

・Many rumors grew which made Baela seem impossibly mysterious

・It made the people respect her; and therefore they listened to what she had to say.

・Even the others in court grew to respect her.

・Baela, much like Alysanne, had a ladies court in which she listened to the problems they had.

・Spare food was always given to the smallfolk, unlike other rulers who gave it to the dogs or horses.

・Baela's approach to governance altered the trajectories of other key figures in the realm

・Her leadership focused on healing the divisions within the realm, strengthening alliances, and leveraging the power of dragons to maintain peace and order.

𝑹𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒏𝒂 | 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑷𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆'𝒔 𝑸𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏

・Yes! her name reflects Princess Diana's real life title, 'The People's Princess'!

・Her reign would be known as one of peace.

・Well, not only peace, but a unique one as well.

・Rhaena addressed the grievances of the common folk and fostered goodwill among the people of both regions through fair governance and an empathic approach.

・The People's Queen shocked many, many people with how strategic she showed herself to be.

・She did this by navigating the political landscape and carefully addressing the concerns of powerful houses in both the North and the South which led to stability.

・Used her access to dragons as a symbol of authority and a powerful military asset to deter rebellion and reinforce her position.

・Rhaena's dragon Morning, hatched during the Dance of the Dragons and kept growing

・She was a very friendly dragon - similar to Silverwing, and didn't mind being paraded around

・Her experience with the devastation of the Dance of the Dragons, made Rhaena prioritize healing the rifts within the realm.

・Rhaena had strong ties to both the dragonriders and the great naval power of House Velaryon. This continued an emphasis on the Targaryen dominance of the skies, and the Velaryon's dominance on the seas.

・Rhaena's reign ushered in a cultural renaissance. The People's Queen promoted the arts, literature, and education. Her leadership style encouraged creativity and innovation, reflecting a more progressive and enlightened era in Westeros.

[heartofjasmina]

virgin!pro hero bkg who’s embarrassed about the fact that he’s never even given himself a proper hj because he’s always been a little afraid of exploding his dick off, so the closest he’s ever gotten to anything is grinding into his pillow late at night.

i’d love to see your interpretation of him with his first girlfriend. any kind of scenario, really. have fun with it lol

💜 bunny

Hi bunny! I hope you know you took me out with this <3

::

"Don't hide from me, love, please?" You asked as you tried to tug your boyfriends hands from his face. He was beyond embarrassed that it had slipped out, his deepest darkest secret.

"I'm a virgin." Blurted out in a panic when you asked him to come upstairs to your apartment.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about. I... I think it's hot actually." You admitted honestly, and that was shocking enough that Katsuki finally stopped hiding his face to look at you.

"You do?" It came out meaner than he intended-- but you had long since told him you understood he had issues with his tone. You didn't take it personally and simply nodded.

"I do. How did you get off before? I want to understand what you're already comfortable with." You took his hands in yours and looked at him lovingly, without judgement. It gave him the courage to tell you the truth.

"Well with my quirk and everything, I didn't want to blow my own dick off..." You snorted before you could stop yourself and he rolled his eyes at you. "So I humped pillows." He finished barely above a whisper, but you were listening so closely there was no way you were going to miss it.

You gulped your throat dry, imagining your boyfriend, pro hero Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight humping his pillows.

"Show me." It came out rough and needy, almost a command. It made Katuski shiver despite his objections.

"But- that's not- babe-" the last word was a whine, as if he already decided he was going to show you.

"I'll give you a blowjob after." You offered without hesitation. You would move heaven and earth to see him do it, and seduction was easily done.

You slowly moved your hands up and down his inner thighs, giving him fuck me eyes as you knelt in front of him. "Please baby?"

"Shit, don't look at me like that-- fuck it. Fine, perv." He sighed and caved in leaning down to kiss you hunrgily before stripping out of his boxers. There was a faint blush on his cheeks and the tips of his ears as he climbed onto the bed and grabbed a pillow, his blush deepening when he saw your hand disappear into your panties.

His movements were unpracticed, just raw need and practical skill. Seeing his cock leaking and red sent sparks shooting through your body- and as he began to grind his cock against the pillows you groaned, praise spilling from your lips without even thinking.

"You look so good baby boy, so hot. I swear I'm gonna blow you nine ways to sunday for this pretty one." Babbling at this rate honestly but it had a positive effects on him.

His hips jerked against the soft cotton of the pillow, knowing he's making a mess and staining the pillow with his cum, but you like it. He can hear it in your voice the way it trembles ever so slightly. You're gonna cum just from watching him. And it sends him over the edge.

When he cums you're right there with him, cumming on your fingers and making a mess of your panties. You barely give him time to recover before you're pushing him back onto the bed, licking his beautiful cock clean just to hear him whimper from the overstimulation.

"Now that, pretty boy, deserves a fucking reward."

[zedecksiew]

What Do Ability Scores Represent?

Recently, Into The Odd and the players in my home game helped me realise something fundamental:

Ability scores represent how good you are at acting under pressure.

STR isn't strength, it's toughness;

DEX really means reflexes;

WIS is more accurately calm or willpower;

etc.

+++

It is convention in roleplaying games that your ability scores / attributes / six stats determine who your character is.

High DEX means your character is spry, capable of acrobatic flourish; a good Willpower generally means you can browbeat others / themselves / reality (if you are spellcaster) into doing what they want; etc.

There is pleasure in looking at a sheet and seeing: Oh! These are the things my character is good at.

But you do run into problems. Does my 18 DEX rogue know they are fleeter than the 17 DEX bard? What if my wizard thinks she is stronger than her 10 STR? What if I have a brilliant scheme but my barbarian only has 9 INT?

How well, in other words, does the map represent the territory?

+++

(Art by Vesha, who is an illustrator! source)

I've got three players in my home game:

Vesha plays the teenaged trader Khabar (and his buffalo friend / parent-figure, Paal);

Amanda plays the monkey warrior Boots-Ra, now going white-furred;

Aish plays Captain Phung.

Phung does not yet own a proper sea-going vessel. Perhaps he lost his previous ship? Perhaps he never had one. (He does have a magic five-person sampan, though!)

He is impulsive. He tends to make dodgy deals with hapless village-folk, pick up dangerous-looking objects, and flirt with dangerous-looking men.

+++

Mechanics-wise, here's how my interactions with Aish / Phung tend to go:

Me: Okay, make a DEX save to duck before the hunter stabs you. Aish: Damn, my DEX is only 6, guess we'll see ... Amanda: Oh, no, Phung!

In a previous session:

Me: Okay, I think I'll call for a WIL save, because the ghost in the goat skull is trying to possess you. Aish: Well, my WIL is 5, hopefully this works out ... Vesha: Oh shit, Phung!

Some sessions back:

Me: The automaton shoves you. Make a STR save? Otherwise you'll be on the ground at its mercy. Aish: Guys I have 6 STR, I may be in trouble here. Me: Wait wait wait. What are your stats again?

So it turns out that Aish had terrible rolls at chargen. STR 6 DEX 6 WIL 5. Just going by ability scores, Phung is an idiot weakling.

+++

Thing is, Phung isn't an idiot weakling.

I've got crafty players; they are pretty good at cooking up multi-part schemes. (Their go-to tactic is bamboozling rival factions to show up at the same place, then benefit from the fallout.)

Phung is generally the face for whatever racket they've got going: he's the most obvious leader (the party is generally "Captain Phung and crew"), and Aish plays him as a capable, charismatic go-getter.

Looking at the character sheet, is Aish playing Phung wrong?

Fuck that. A player cannot play their own character wrong. I reject this notion outright.

What's going on?

+++

Different rulesets try to bridge the gaps between player action, character ability, and abstract math in different ways: eliminating mental attributes; going totally skill-based; etc.

The ruleset that comes closest to "solving" this, for me, is Into The Odd.

Saves are the only kind of test player-characters make, in ITO and its derivatives. This is key.

The ruleset assumes competency on the part of characters; you only go to the dice if you need to figure out stuff that is out of your control.

How badly a straight-up fight goes; whether you can jump aside in time if you've accidentally sprung a trap; whether you can improvise a lie on the fly.

+++

Implicitly, and in practice:

The STR stat in ITO is more accurately toughness---ie: how well you can withstand a physically demanding situation you didn't prepare for.

Ditto DEX, which is an abstraction for how quickly your reflexes trigger.

Same with WIL, which is how well you stay calm under duress.

I can be sharp when I've got time and it is a subject I have experience in. But suddenly ask me to make a speech and I'm toast (low INT).

Some folks have no martial arts training but can hold their own if a brawl breaks out in a bar (high STR).

Captain Phung is a pretty cool operator when he's in control, but tends to seize up when things go off the rails (low WIL).

There's my answer to the conundrum of Captain Phung: he's a genuinely capable guy. He's just not necessarily great under stress. His reach exceeds his grasp, sometimes.

+++

Your ability scores don't represent who your character is. Your ability scores represent who your character is, when under duress.

In other words:

Ability scores are who your character is when they are not in control. Ability scores are your character's reactions.

+++

I do feel slow on the uptake, for only grokking this now.

Chris McDowall probably has a post from the mid 2010s or something where he discusses this aspect design in detail, the clever genius bastard. It is probably internalised play-culture within the ITO-and-descendants community; Emms points out that the current edition of Mothership explicitly talks about stats in this way.

Still!

Am glad to have a regular TTRPG group again, and I have them to thank for my epiphany!

(They are kickass. I ran them through Whirling Mummy a while back and it was a RIOT)

[picturejasper20]

Bismuth is an interesting character to talk about because, in spite of her having just few appearances in the show, she is almost treated with the same importance that characters like Peridot and Lapis Lazuli have, who show up from the first season and their arcs are spread out through the series.

I believe this comes from how key her introduction episode is, as it mark a ¨before and after¨ in the series, when Steven and the audience begins to learn more about the dark secrets that Rose Quartz kept and how her image of ¨perfect hero¨ for Steven and others starts to break down.

Bismuth is described as the ¨biggest Crystal Gem¨, in the sense she was very passionate about the cause and she was pretty well loved and respected in her team. She seemed to be one of the closest Rose's friends along with Garnet and Pearl back during the Gem War.

It is unknown how Bismuth met Rose Quartz and decided to join the Crystal Gems but based on her dialogue we can get an idea that she was moved by Rose Quartz's ideas and later became part of the movement.

¨And she asked me what I wanted to build, and I'd never heard that before. And Gems never hear they can be anything other than what they are, but Rose opened our eyes.¨

So Bismuth was sent to Earth and when she met Rose Quartz who was ¨just another Quartz soldier¨, she was asked what things she was interested in building. I assumed that Bismuth was taken out by this and over time started to question what she wanted to do and be.

Based on Unleash the Light, Bismuths as gems appear to have an overall sentiment that they aren't respected for their work and they are overlooked. They seem to be gems that are more likely to rebel or demand proper respect than other type of gems- at least based on the game events. I think Bismuth shared a similar feeling as well that made her become a Crystal Gem not so long after meeting Rose.

The other idea that got her was that she could be something different- she didn't have to only build what the Diamonds told her. She could try building her own things! So she choose to use her own skills to create and make weapons for other gems in the war.

Bismuth really looked up to Rose- she adored her- so much that she built a statue dedicated to her. She believed in everything that Rose said and she was willing to do anything for her.

This passion and idolization ended up backfiring on Rose Quartz in a way, as her constant words about how terrible Pink Diamond was had a clear effect on Bismuth, thus making her a fanatic Crystal Gem- someone who considered taking some more extreme measures than the ones Rose had been applying so far.

Rose have indirectly created her own enemies, if it could be put in that way.

One day Bismuth comes up with a weapon- which looks more like a torture device than something to be used on battle- and shows it to Rose. She believes that this could change the outcome of the war and maybe lead them to victory. She shows how it works, probably shattering some statue to prove her point.

Then, for one reason or another, Rose didn't seem to be fond of this idea that Bismuth had- perhaps because she didn't want to be shattered herself or she didn't want that for the other Diamonds, maybe she was scared of this being used in more innocent gems or she didn't want to be like the Diamonds. Whatever was the reason, Rose decided to hide the Breaking Point and poof Bismuth, hiding her inside Lion's mane at some point.

She never told to Pearl and Garnet what happened to Bismuth- not even centuries after the Gem War ended. Probably because she wanted to keep the idea of Pink Diamond's shattering being faked since she previously rejected the breaking point? Maybe it was out of fear of not knowing how Pearl and Garnet would react?

What it is sad is how Bismuth still kept talking good of Rose after being freed by Steven. She went on for a while like she hadn't been betrayed by one of her best friends until she has that fight with Steven near the end of the episode- for what was a misunderstanding and her being too confused at believing that Steven was Rose Quartz for a moment.

After coming back in ¨Made of Honor¨ having some chats with Steven about what happened and learning that Rose was Pink Diamond, Bismuth changed the way she refer herself to Rose. Based on the interactions she has with Steven, she appears to have changed her admiration for Rose Quartz to looking up to Steven now. She tells to Steven about how he has been able to bring the whole team together and how they are more following him rather than Rose Quartz.

In the time skip both in the movie and Steven Universe Future she is seen helping in Little Homeworld, building it or talking to other gems. There isn't much comment on how she feels about Rose in the scenes she shows up, but the overall feeling is that she is still a Crystal Gem because of her friends and Steven and not so much for Rose. It is unknown if she hates Rose- or if it is more of feeling mixed about her. I want to think it is more the latter, as she still kept talking good about her to Steven on ¨Bismuth¨.

Bismuth and Rose Quartz's relationship is a very sad one. Bismuth was betrayed by someone she really looked up to and was close friends with ( and very likely had romantic feelings for) for reasons that not even Rose herself understood. Fortunately Steven freed her and decided to give her the chance that Rose Quartz didn't after she got bubbled. She remains part of the Crystal gems, but more for herself and her friends than for the gem she once idolized.

[inlovewithpandora]

- New Beginnings || Father’s Day Special -

Pairing: Agedup!Lo’ak x Fem!Omatikaya!Mate!Reader

Synopsis: You find out your pregnant just in time to suprise your mate for Father’s Day

Content: Fluff, mated pair, nausea/vomit, Dad!Lo’ak, Lo’ak being a little confused, him worrying about his parenting skills (reader reassures him), reader surprising him, just a really cute fic

Author’s Note: I decided to do a FD themed Lo’ak fic because I don’t see enough Dad!Lo’ak or Lo’ak x pregnant reader and I just thought it would be cute!

- I will be writing more Dad!Lo’ak/Lo’ak x pregnant!reader in the future so feel free to send in any requests!

- Please excuse any mistakes!

Word Count: 1.4k

Glossary: Sempu - Daddy || Yawne - Beloved || Tìyawn - Love

Extra: Requests are open! Please read rules prior to requesting!

Links: Navigation || Masterlist || Taglist

You were currently helping Mo'at in the healing pod when you began to feel ill. Your stomach was beginning to feel agitated, it was like someone was physically shaking you.

As you continued to do the list of tasks Mo'at assigned you to complete you tried your best to shake the feeling of nausea away, hoping it would soon pass. As you tried to stand up from your current position on the floor, you began to feel slightly lightheaded and your legs felt as if they were going to give out on you any second, "my child are you okay?" Mo'at rushed over to your side and help you sit back down on the mat.

"Yes, I'm fi-" your sentence was cut off by the feeling of this morning's breakfast attempting to make a reappearance.

You quickly grab the closest bowl in your reach and begin to expel the content of your insides. Mo'at gently pulls your hair up so it doesn’t get in the way and once you’re finished Mo'at immediately took the bowl to discard it.

As you grab a cloth and begin to clean your mouth you heat up with embarrassment, feeling it spread from your chest up to your cheeks, knowing that you just vomited in front of your Tsahìk and even worse your mate's grandmother.

When Mo'at walked back inside she could see the tears welling up in your eyes, "no need to cry my child, everything is fine. Nothing to be ashamed about..." she speaks in her usual light and sweet tone, reassuring you that it was nothing to be embarrassed about.

With her being the Tsahìk for many years she has seen any and everything so a little accident like this didn't phase her one bit.

"Let's just get you to lay down so we can see what's wrong okay?" you nod your head in agreement and began to lie down on the mat below you. Once your flat on your back Mo'at began to examine you.

She began to touch and take in a full look at your appearance. She could see the tired look in your eye and the slight swollenness of your breasts. She then began to lightly touch your stomach, "How long have you been feeling sick like this?"

"A few weeks now..." Mo'at just nodded her head in response and reach over to her basket full of medical instruments and grabbed a wooden Pinard horn. She placed it gently on your lower stomach and pressed her ear against the other end.

Once she was satisfied with her findings she placed the instrument back in its proper place. As you looked at her you were trying to read her facial expressions to see if the news would be good or bad but her face was restful, not a slither of emotion in sight.

"What is it? Is everything okay?" you questioned in a soft voice hoping the news wouldn't be bad.

"Yes everything is great, you are with child" As she speaks her lips curl into a smile, happy that she will be welcoming another great-grandchild into the world.

As her words rang through your ears, your eyes immediately begin to water. You were so happy to hear the news that you were pregnant. You and Lo'ak have been trying for a while so to know that you were now carrying a child, his child, in your stomach made you feel overwhelmed with joy.

"H-How far am I?"

"Almost two months, you aren't showing yet but in due time you will"

You gently place your hands on your stomach, rubbing it softly with a smile on your face knowing that Eywa has finally blessed you with the gift of conceiving. Knowing that your stomach would eventually swell with the growth of your baby made you feel warm inside, it was as if your motherly love was growing stronger by the second.

—

As you were walking home, still feeling the happiness of finding out about your pregnancy you could hear someone calling your name, "Hey y/n!"

you turn around and see Tuk running up to you with a newly crafted armband, “That looks great Tuk, your getting so good at weaving”

“Thank you, I made this for my Sempu for Father’s Day”

You almost forgot that Father’s Day was coming up for Jake since you were Omatikaya and the clan didn’t celebrate those type of holidays like on Earth.

“When is Father’s Day Tuk?”

“Tomorrow”

Since Father’s Day was tomorrow you came up with a perfect plan to surprise Lo’ak with the news of him being a father.

After talking to Tuk you began making your way to the biolab so you could talk to Spider.

Once you made it inside you saw Spider talking to one of the scientists, “Hey Spider”

“Hey y/n, what’s up?”

“I need you to help me with something…”

—

After explaining your idea to Spider he instantly agreed, excited to help you in any way possible.

You brought him back to your marui and both of you began to work on the surprise, after a few hours you finally completed it.

“How do you think it looks? Do you think he’ll like it?” You asked Spider as you showed him the final product

“Amazing, when he sees it he’s going to love it”

—

It’s now the next day, Father’s Day and you were so excited to surprise Lo’ak. As both of you started your morning as normal, talking, eating breakfast, and getting ready for the day you were waiting for the right time to tell him the news.

“I’m leaving to go give my Dad his gift for Father’s Day” Lo’ak told you as he walked next to you and kissed you softly on the cheek.

“Okay well before you go I have something to show you”

As Lo’ak watched you walk to the other side of the room he began to wonder what you wanted to show him. After a few minutes, you walked back in front of him and held up a woven blanket.

At first, he looked at the amazing patterns it held, he could tell your skills came to life as you weaved. As he continued looking at your work his eyes went to the middle and he began to see words but they weren’t written in Na’vi, they were written in English which took him by surprise since you couldn’t write in English but thanks to Spider helping you yesterday you were able to get it done.

“H-a-p-p-y F-a-t-h-e-r-s D-a-y” he slowly spoke the words under his breath and his brows furrowed, “why does this say Happy Father’s Day? Is it a gift for my Dad?”

You begin to chuckle at the sound of confusion in his tone, “No yawne it's for you”

You saying that only made his face contort with an even more confused expression than before, “Me? How is it for me?”

“Think about it Lo’ak, think about it really hard”

Lo’ak began to ponder on your words, hearing you put such emphasis in your voice made him think as hard as he could. Once he thought about it for a while and truly processed your words his golden eyes lit up instantly, “Wait…You’re pregnant?”

“Yes, I’m almost two months”

Lo’ak just stands there awestruck for a moment, he couldn’t believe his mate, the love of his life was now carrying his bundle of joy.

Lo’ak walks up to you and immediately pulls you into his embrace, squeezing you so tight that you would almost burst. Once he let you go he began to plant kisses all over your face, “I-I can’t believe it, we finally have a baby together”

“I know I’m so happy, we finally have our own little family. we’ve created a life, a new member of the clan”

As Lo’ak began to think of having a child he was happy of course but he also had a small voice telling him things, things that always made him doubt his future parenting abilities, “y/n, do you think I'll be a good dad?”

You knew he always had doubts in the back of his head, telling him he wouldn’t be a good father because he had a strained relationship with Jake.

“Yawne..” you grab his hand and place it gently on your stomach, “you will be the best father to our child, they will feel so loved by you. You will have the best relationship with them” you smile at him, reassuring him that no matter what he will be an amazing father.

“Thank you tìyawn” he pulls you in for a tender kiss, you could tell by your reassuring him it gave him a new wave of confidence.

You pull back from him and begin to gently caress his cheek and look up at him with eyes that shined with love, “Happy Father’s Day Lo’ak”

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©️inlovewithpandora ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 | All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[throwaway-yandere]

A/n: ansy speaking, not her. Please. P l e a s e. Don't read ANY of the endings unless you've reached the end of the story in your own way.

Link to the fic.

In the public eye, it's known that you and Gepard were not the closest. Given how harsh his father was to you both, even the spouses were sure that you two had an unspoken rivalry. Expectations for greatness and undying loyalty for the Supreme Guardian had been ingrained so much that everyone thought you both always wanted to outdo the other to gain Mr. Landau's approval.

But that is far from the truth.

"(Y/n)."

"Yes, Captain?"

He looked away, cheeks and ears both red.

"I-Is my hand too cold?"

You smiled vibrantly.

Except for Serval and Pela, no one knew that you and Gepard had been dating for seven years. Lynx must've had a hunch, but you were both skilled enough to dodge suspicions. 

Perhaps that's exactly what made your relationship exciting. Loving him was quite an expensive vice, and you relished every second you squandered. He thought the same as you; your pervasive cheerfulness reserved for his eyes only was something he often mentally chastised himself for obsessing so much, but he can't get enough of you. Being his "vixen" had been a label you cherished ever since he confessed his reciprocation of your feelings, especially when he said that you have made him resort to discreet flippancy when he saw other men and women take an interest in you several times. 

You were certain he was obsessed with you as much as you were obsessed with him 

A secret this big would certainly give Mr. Landau a turn, but when the time comes, you wouldn't mind the slaps and shards of ceramic and glass you'd have to face as long as you get to be with Gepard.

Your hold on his hand tightened. This led you to notice how ringless his fingers were and you frowned. You know Gepard. If you don't tie him down, one of his many fans will beguile and win his unwavering loyalty. That was his nature. And you couldn't accept being "just" some near-servant he was forced to grow up with. 

"Not at all, no.”

He liked that response. Gepard flashed you a small lopsided smile that was incredibly attractive given how he rarely shows it to anyone.

"You don't have a ring on you..." You cast your gaze down. "Will we ever have a chance at getting married?"

Gepard ducked his chin, considering his words.

"W-Well, I don't know about that."

Your stomach dropped.

... You get it. You got it from then on.

Despite being together for 7 years– 7 YEARS– He will always prioritize his duties before you. You knew that was the core of his character– loyalty, and obedience– and it's likely the only real similarity between him and Mr. Landau. You’re used to it. However, seeing it confirmed again in this context hurts more than you thought it would. 

You dropped his hand, you doubt he notices the absence of your warmth.

"So… the future's uncertain."

"Of course."

You didn't speak. There was no reason to do so. You knew that he was aware of how much you didn’t like his response.

Admittedly, Gepard's hands were always cold. It'd be funny to utter false romances on how perfectly warm his hands are when it feels like he walked straight out of a freezer. Today, his hands were ice, and so was his heart. 

“(Y/n), I have something I’d like to tell you…”

Gepard gulped, ashamed.

“The truth is… You frighten me.”

…

…

…

"What…?"

You tilted your head, chuckling. His words didn't make much sense, especially when he was holding you so delicately. 

"What do you mean?"

"Perhaps the proper phrasing is that I'm... afraid," Gepard looked away. "Of what's in store for us in the future... Should we continue this route."

You blinked.

"We are not in the Ministry of Education. Be more concise."

"I'm afraid to love you as much as you love me."

...

...

"... That doesn't answer anything."

"I'm afraid that I'll lose my sanity, being so close to you like this, holding you like this" he tightened his grip. "I'm afraid I'd lose my– myself, my hold on reality, my–"

"Name." 

You let go.

"You're afraid that being in a relationship with me will end up getting you disowned. You're afraid of loving me because you have a duty you're obliged to uphold, especially since you're of noble blood and I am just an orphan your father picked up, right? You're afraid to get attached because growing up you've witnessed how little I'm worth. How I lived not like a human child, but a pawn, right? How– despite my skills– I will never be promoted based on my background and upbringing, yes?"

"(Y/n)..."

"Enough, Captain." 

You laughed cruelly. Your breathing rehearsed– your face stiff as a board.

"Let's just forget we ever had this talk."

“Through highs and lows, we’ll always prevail,

Hand-in-hand, we’ll conquer any trail…"

You kept a fixed gaze on Gepard as he continued to sit in his cozy office chair. The unsettling aura that permeated your entire existence didn't appear to trouble him too much. He was aware of why you had come, but he was unable to express himself as he let you in. 

"Gepard."

His suspicions were correct. You weren't here for official matters. This visit was personal.

And he is the one at fault here.

"(Y/n)."

"Don't." You shook your head. "Don't get me started."

"Well, what is it that you wish for me to say?"

"Say that you didn't want it." You spoke, unfettered. "Say that you don't want us to be siblings."

"I don't."

"Then why?" You laughed breathlessly. "Why did you let father– your father do this?"

"I don't– I didn't let him do it. It's just the way it is. They want you as the official third Landau, that is all."

"That's all I am to you? A rival to heirdom?"

"(N/n)..." He covered his mouth with his hand; his stare melancholic yet enraged. “You know it’s not true. Take it back.”

"But ultimately, our relationship means nothing but a waste of time." You shook your head. "It would've hurt less if you just rejected me early on. It wouldn't be this fucking painful."

"I know."

You raised your axe.

"Of course you do. You always were sharp." You scoffed. He gulped as the rough edges of your laughter struck a chord in his chest– Gepard had never heard you cackle this much. 

Strange how the same axe that used to bring him security on the frontlines now overwhelms him with obvious dread.

"At this point, I'm so convinced this pain I'm feeling right now– it's intentional. All a way to keep yourself amused under the guise of upholding the family’s orders."

"(Y/n)." he attempted to speak your name firmly, but there was a quiver by the end of it. "Stand down."

Gepard breathed in.

“I… I can always help you find a match–”

“YOU DON'T GET IT, DO YOU?! I DON’T NEED A MATCH. I JUST WANT YOU!!!”

Your breathing no longer seemed "rehearsed"– resoundingly jagged and feral. Should Gepard be lucky enough to have an outsider witness his final moments, they would've seen how you were crumbling– every inch displaying how you were expiring out of heartbreak.

He gave you half a smile as he approached cautiously. Gepard had always been keenly observant– able to deduce who true criminals were by a single testimony– and you do not have that advantage.

"(N/n)..." 

"Why…?" 

The glint in your eye as you hoisted your axe upward never left. 

"Did you ever... love me back?" You cracked. "In all our years together, sneaking out— carefully unscrewing your windows just to go wherever– did you ever think about us? Or... Or were you just kind this whole time? Were you just afraid of breaking my heart?"

Gepard shook his head, walking towards you with heavy footsteps. He took your shoulders and stared at you dead in the eye, his eyes watering.

"N-No...! No, no, I love you, more than you think. It’s why I’m doing this. I— I love you so much that I knew if I– If I let myself go," he gulped. “I might end up killing Dad.”

"Then why?" You sobbed, wiping your tears quickly to save face. "Why are you giving me up so easily?"

"(Y/n)... What I feel for you just isn't normal." He smiled crookedly. “No sane son would constantly dream about suffocating his father with a pillow just to be with someone. This isn’t right anymore. I-I don’t think I’m sane.”

Gepard cupped your cheeks. 

His hands were cold. As it always was.

"I want you all to myself and it's... I can't. I can't say it out loud. It feels like a crime against Belobog." He leaned in, touching his forehead against yours. Gepard closed his eyes, worried that if he continued to face you, he'd dissolve into nothing. 

The great Captain Gepard Landau, adored by many, was scared of himself.

"I'm always paranoid. I'm scared of watching you– watching you succeed. It's not a person I'm supposed to be. I'm your Captain, I should be happy whenever others imply your promotion but I'm not! I'm– I don't even understand why!!! I’m unhappy when other people have your attention– I just don't want to see that look of fixation in your eyes for another man– I don't want you to look at people like Sampo Koski over— over..."

… me.

With a perverse mixture of mischief and rivalry, Sampo manipulated circumstances that engineered chance encounters with you. He strategized himself in your path, feigning coincidental meetings while leaving a trail of subtle clues only you would realize.

Gepard despises acknowledging it, but he is quite certain that Sampo Koski's strategy of losing from the start is what led to your imminent promotion. Irritatingly, you don't seem to care for his creepy antics and his upfront need for your attention, even inside metallic confinement. In Gepard's eyes, your irritated grin showed that you were taking pleasure in Sampo's "comedic" performances. You don't appear to be bothered by Sampo. Gepard is not identical.

And to this, your dear Captain was starting to see his father when looking in the mirror. 

A bitter old man with little patience when another person touches what’s his.

Gepard breathed in shakily. 

"I don't... want… And that’s why I am not fit to be your lover. You deserve a life much better than this. A life where our opportunities are the same– and I cannot give you that Landau name, but my parents can."

He dropped his trembling hands as they led to his sides. Gepard faced the floor, ashamed with his conscience dirtied. It's as though he's dumping all his dirty laundry on you. No matter how much he voices how much these thoughts plague him, he doubts you understand the extent of his love.

But you do. And you feel it more strongly than he does.

"... You don't want to be ruined by love, that's all?" 

You sighed, ghost-like. 

"I see. Truly, you carry the will of Qlipoth."

Suddenly, you were back to being a model soldier.

Gepard refused to open his eyes.

…

…

…

It seemed as though he had forgotten.

How much you resembled his father more than he did.

A scream echoed throughout the vicinity. 

No one else heard it but you. Not even Gepard realized that guttural sound came from him. 

Always so rehearsed. So calculated. 

As Mr. Landau used to say: "With a strength like yours, (Y/n), it'll take two chops before you can take out a limb."

And he was right. He was always right about you.

"(Y-Y/N)!!!"

You blinked slowly.

Time moved slowly. You grabbed the chopped wood on the floor. You tossed it to the side. It's a lot more moist than usual, and heavier as well, like an over-drowned rotting cactus. The temperature must've dropped again. You should consult Lynx about this later.

"Captain. There's not enough wood for the soldiers at the outpost."

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!?!" Gepard screamed. Strangely enough, he sounded like he was in pain.

You blinked again. Why is the Captain so agitated? Is there an emergency?

"What's wrong, Captain?" You voiced out, awfully calm. A silent voice begged you to panic, but you were a soldier first and foremost. How will you protect the people if you're easily swayed by your captain's mood fluctuations?

Gepard shook, holding himself up against his desk. A surge of searing pain coursed through his body as the “chopped wood” was ruthlessly severed. The shock and disbelief enveloped him, no different from a fog. Collapsing to his knees, he clutched the mangled “stump” where his arm once was, blood staining his trembling hand.

Tears mingled with the beads of sweat on his forehead. He gasped for breath. Amid his physical agony, you stood tall, wordlessly threatening to consume him.

"(Y-Y/n)...! P-Please!!!" He yelped in pain.

"Did you hurt yourself? May I see?" 

"Y-You..." Tears rolled down Gepard’s face. “W-WHY DID YOU?!?!–”

"Don't worry. You've helped me train on my combat lifesaver course, please allow me."

You took a step forward, hands moist from the “snow”.

His non-dominant hand slapped yours away.

Why didn’t he use his dominant hand?

"D-DON'T!!!"

You stopped.

"Captain. You're being hysterical. Please take deep breaths."

"H-Hah... H-H-Hhahh… H-Hahh, why? H-Hahah…"

Gepard looked down again.

You both stayed there for minutes.

You stood with a worn axe in hand, a single “lumber” at your feet. In your mind, it was a simple task— chopping wood for your comrade’s warmth and comfort in the upcoming expedition. But Gepard's eyes revealed a different story. 

You observed his trembling form, his gaze fixed on the place where your swing had connected. What had you missed? You couldn't fathom why he seemed terrified. What had you failed to see? Innocently, you believed you were going about a mundane chore. The weight of the axe felt ordinary in your grip, the act of splitting wood a routine you had performed countless times. How could you have known the magnitude of what had transpired?

But he couldn't turn a blind eye to the truth as you tilted his head up, smiling vibrantly.

"I.. .... ..u."

All he could hear was the syllables “I” and “U.”

You knelt and kissed his cheek. He was wet, probably from the snow. Yes. The snow. Gepard was a clumsy man, he must've stumbled on his way to his office. Mr. Landau had always berated him for his unrefined movements, but you secretly thought it as endearing.

"I.. lo.. ..u. So much, Geppie." You grinned as you sloppily slid the axe in your possession to his remaining hand. "But you need to stop crying. You’re a soldier."

That sentence. It was just like hearing them out of Mr. Landau’s lips.

You pointed at yourself— your thigh— your leg.

"Dry your tears and help me chop wood, okay?"

It took him seconds before he met your gaze.

Your eyes were like staring at the blurry snow beyond the gates of the Administrative district. He knew there must be something there but all that gazed back was foggy and bottomless. The problem is, his vision too was starting to blacken.

He weakly pecked your lips.

“Okay… Okay…”

Gepard laughed mid-tears, his energy draining.

His cries reached a hauntingly high-pitched cry that echoed like metal against metal. His mournful wails never resembled wolfish growls but rather heartbroken cries. His speech resembles the guttural syllables "I" and "U" in an auditory expression of grief.

Like a monster whose flesh was stitched with a Silvermane Guard uniform, he grabbed the axe and began to chant mindlessly.

Gepard remembered Pela said something about this before.

‘When the body loses a substantial amount of blood, it can disrupt the delivery of oxygen to the brain, affecting its function and leading to altered mental states, including distress. Hypovolemic shock can also occur within a matter of minutes to hours after experiencing significant blood loss.’

That's right, that must be it. It was even in his lifesaver training course. As a Captain, how dare he forget about it? 

Gepard took the axe with his remaining arm, weakly swinging it as tears rolled in his eyes. His legs are giving up and he’s starting to feel queasy as the world whirls around him,

For a minute there– or the last minutes he would ever have– he finally gave himself the release he needed.

He's been a good child for too long. He couldn't say those three words when you needed motivation. He couldn't whisper when you asked for his relief. He couldn't scream it when you craved its solace.

At least now, he can confess his love when it counted. 

“I-I love you, (Y/n).” Gepard harshly took a deep breath as he lowered his arm. He's a soldier. He wasn't supposed to question the orders from his superiors, and right now, you were the only person he looked up to.

The clock struck 10:10.

“I love you, so, so much.”

An eye for an eye, and you were forgiven.

“In our home, you’re always free to stay…”

It was lunchtime when people started returning to their posts. Pela took a half-day, begging Serval to kindly deliver the papers instead of her due to a convention. This was something the now-promoted intelligence officer wished she had never done.

Pela wished she didn't force Serval to witness the gruesome sight of her brother embraced by his cold-eyed murderer.

She couldn't scream. For once, the vocalist had no smart words to say. She let herself run on auto-pilot hauntingly as though it was a mere volunteer job at the orphanage. 

Serval avoided staring at your chopped leg and Gepard's arm strewn to the side, neatly sitting together like lumber. Her breathing was abnormal as she clawed her skirt. None of this was real to her. None of this made any sense. 

"H-Hey... (Y/n)..."

You looked up.

"W-What… happened?"

"We were just chopping wood." You replied, monotone. “And then he felt sleepy…”

You were starting to feel tired too. You don’t want to stand up anymore. 

"Chopping.. w-wood..." Serval's voice cracked as she began to cry. "W-What... for...?"

"The soldiers at the outpost. We have an expedition. I suppose the captain was just too tired to move…"

"O-Oh dear Qlipoth— (Y/N)!!!" Serval felt bile rising to her throat. “GEPARD!!!”

Serval's heart pounded in her chest as she reluctantly sprinted, her steps quick and frantic. There you “sat”, cradling Gepard's lifeless form in your arms, a serene expression on your face.

With shaky hands, she held Gepard alongside you. Large tears soon splotched Gepard’s peaceful expression, painted with his older sister’s grief.

Your gaze met Serval's, and at that moment, the lifeless confusion etched across your face sent a sharp pang of pain through her heart. You spoke, your words tinged with innocence, unaware of how the dried red liquid soaking both your clothes was starting to turn brown.

Painfully, Serval misunderstood your words. In her mind, she envisioned a violent attack, a scenario where someone had assaulted both of you, clouding your judgment and leaving you lost in confusion like a wounded deer. Afterward, she thought of how you must’ve been mad about Gepard’s passiveness concerning their father’s decision, attacking him without much thought.

Serval's cries intensified. Her understanding of the situation clashed with your warped perception. 

Did she see you not as a perpetrator but as another sibling caught in an ambush? 

Or did she understand what happened, and simply wanted you to get away from the crime you had committed?

Temporarily, her focus was on you. Looking only at Gepard was too much to bear– like another half of herself was burned to sunder.

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Serval smiled warily and replied in an overly pert tone. “I’ll get a mop— w-we’ll clean this mess, okay? You didn’t do it. You did what you can. You did nothing wrong…” 

Serval sobbed.

Either way, she won’t lose another important person in her life.

Not again.

You tilted your head, eyes slowly fluttering shut. 

“W-Why are you crying, Serv?”

“(Y/n), i-it’s okay! C-Calm down, calm down. Things just happen. I’ll help you okay? Shhh, d-don’t cry, don’t cry, I'm here… I won’t let you leave me.”

“... Who’s coming to take me away…?”

“N-No, no… I won’t let it happen. They don’t even have to know you were here. P-Pass the mop now, shhh…”

She was speaking to herself more than she was speaking to you. 

Even when she is her only conversation partner, Serval was a lousy liar.

But despite all those lies, she knew that she would never recover from losing Gepard.

“Together, we’ll face each passing day…”

Your eyes fluttered open, your body drenched in cold sweat. 

You’re out of the back alley.

You breathed shakily. You’re free. And yet, a lingering sense of fear clings to your senses. Gasping for breath, you found yourself in an unfortunately very familiar room. You didn’t know what time it was, but the soft glow of moonlight casting a gentle light across the hospital walls told you what you needed to know. And there, by your side, sat Serval who held your hand the entire time, a mix of relief and concern etched upon her face.

"S-Serval?" Your voice trembled as you whispered her name, still reeling from the remnants of that nightmare.

Serval's eyes widened in surprise, her voice laced with a hint of guilt. "You're awake! Oh, thank– I didn't know what I would do if I lost you."

Not you too.

She continued. 

“Seriously, why did you try to escape?”

Her hold on your hand tightened. 

Serval’s hands were cold, just like Gepard’s.

“Don’t you know how worried sick I was?” Serval’s voice was airy as if she didn’t want anyone else to hear her concerns. “I thought you and Sampo eloped. Not to mention this whole event about a murder happening at 10:10– I genuinely thought you were dead when we found you lying down near the Golden Theater at that time!”

She took a deep breath.

“I thought you were dead. I genuinely thought I’d lose another sibling.” Serval cried as she pulled you closer, her head now resting on your shoulder. “Don’t scare me like that again!!!”

You gulped, feeling something stuck in your throat.

“Were… you singing?”

“Ah!” Serval’s eyes widened. “Yes, yes I was.”

“I’m sorry, was it too cheesy?” She laughed quietly. “Lynx, Pela, and I are still working on it. We were hoping to perform it for you once you got better. Dunn was even willing to help out.”

This is wrong.

This is wrong.

This is wrong.

You don’t deserve her kindness. You don’t deserve their affection.

Your obsession with Gepard Landau was consuming, swallowing you whole. With an already fragile mind– he had effectively shattered your mental state, no matter how merciful he had done it. 

Human unpredictability is a terrifying variable. Who would’ve known that the unofficial Landau could lose themselves in blind rage and desperation? A hole so deep, you haven’t realized the axe you wielded severed his arm. But such a tragedy was only the beginning. Gepard tore your leg off your body in the process as well. 

Most importantly, unable to control both physical and mental anguish, you took his life, extinguishing your raison d’etre.

Finally, the lines between reality and delusion crispened.

In his final moments, what was he thinking about? Why was he smiling as you ripped away his arm? Why did he still hold you so gently? Why did he...

You cried.

“I killed him.”

You shook.

“I killed him, Serval!” You grasped a handful of the hospital bedsheets, sobbing wildly. “I killed your brother!!!”

You couldn’t face him. A murderer couldn’t face the family of their victims with a heavy conscience. You couldn’t see her eyes after this. You want her to gouge them out for you.

…

…

“Hah.”

But amidst that silence, you heard a soft somber chuckle.

“I know.”

You snapped your neck towards her.

“What…?”

“I know. I know you killed Geppie.” Serval spoke, emotionless. “And I won’t ever forgive you for that. I’m sorry, (Y/n), but you know how long it takes for me to let go of past grudges. It was so easy for you to just take my brother off this world... Don't you at least owe me an explanation!? I don’t want another "I blacked out" as an excuse. So don’t bother if you can’t give me a good honest answer.”

She’s right.

You can never give her a good honest answer. You can either give her a good one or an honest one– they’re mutually exclusive in this scenario.

You gulped. “I-I’m so sorry, Ser–”

“But,” she chuckled, full of self-loathing. “I grew up with you. You were always there for me, as a servant, friend, my dad’s favorite, my brother’s lover, or my sibling.”

Serval took a deep breath.

“You’re still our third Landau. I don’t know how I feel about you, but what I do know is that I need to keep you alive.”  

“B-BUT—”

“I’m not the only one who will lose another sibling. Lynx will too.”

Serval shook her head, placing a finger on her lip as she closed her eyes.

“I should’ve locked the door to the basement.” She repeated those words with more conviction. “I should’ve locked the door to the basement. You wouldn’t have remembered everything if I just asked Molly to double-check the locks.”

You slipped your hand away from hers.

“What do you…”

You can no longer form complete sentences and Serval won’t let you do so either way.

“Dr. Kang Tu’s medicine has worn off quickly, huh? Maybe I can get Pela to find better connections. She knows people with a Ph.D. in medicine or pharmacy or something, right? It shouldn't be too hard. Maybe I can ask Dr. Kang Tu if it's possible to up the dosage— surely there are a ton of customers who aren't too satisfied with this therapy device. Heck, maybe I can tinker with it for a little. My engineering degree isn't worth dust. Maybe I can adjust the settings just a bit better. Yeah... It'll be fine. I can work this out. I'll just have to—"

You stared blankly as Serval talked to herself. If there's something worse than watching her lie, it's to watch her be incredibly earnest about something vile and wrong.

"Serval?"

"Yeah, I can do that, no sweat!" She laughed out loud. Her pupils were dilated, as though her self-encouragements can make her run a mile. "Yeah, I can do this. Dad may think I'm useless but I’m the only one who can save his favorite kid. Sure, I’m an ex-engineer from the Technology Division, but I’m also the only one that can still protect– preserve this family."

Her prolonged rants were unnerving as she fumbled with what was in her bag. 

Suddenly, remembered all the "experiments" she had done to you when you were tied up in her basement. The stuffy air, the strange electrifying devices, the cables, the sockets that connect to both your temples-- the flickering lights that made you pass out and wake up in a never-ending cold sweat.

Suddenly, you remembered why you wanted to leave.

"What are you—"

You finally shared a gaze.

Your heart dropped.

Her eyes were empty. Cold. Yet it squinted as she wore a large smile. Too large to be considered normal. But this was the same sight you'd see whenever you woke up. And it never fails to make you worry despite the pain you endured.

Serval Landau is broken, yet she wanted to be the one to "fix" you like a good older sister. 

And it's all your fault.

Like all Landaus, there's no stopping them once they've made up their mind. A “family code of conduct”— one that you had once followed before.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n).” Serval smiled as she turned something on.

The mobile amnesic therapy meditation device looked like it belonged naturally in her hands.

“But I still need this happy family to work. If not for Gepard, then for Mom and Lynx. They’d be too heartbroken if they knew the truth.”

You started to hear that familiar radio static again.

“So forget everything that happened, okay?”

[charaznablescanontoyota]

hey marn if trish made cars for all of cooler passione, did she make one for al too? and if so, does he find it?

there's a second library car. it's very different from the other one - no denizens, no stark white marble, and the stacks are much smaller, more closely packed together. the light inside comes from candles and oil lamps instead of fluorescents, and the long wooden tables are replaced with mismatched armchairs and overstuffed couches. al walks to one of the latter, his footsteps very loud against the polished wood floor, and drags his fingers along the upholstery.

"well, this is something," gansey says, still standing in the doorway. it's not the first time today he's said this; in fact, it's quickly become his reaction to every car that impresses him at first sight. he's still so new that it's hard to find it annoying. "what's the twist of this one, do you think? cryptography? a reading comprehension quiz? some kind of beast?"

"you keep asking that," al says, looking back over his shoulder. "there's not always a twist. and, you know, most of the cars don't have a beast in them."

"you mentioned there being one that did."

"we're not going there," al says firmly. after a moment, he adds, "you wouldn't like it."

"i don't believe you know that," gansey replies, sounding mildly put out.

"i do," al says. in point of fact, he knows better than most, and he's not letting them get within five cars of the colosseum if he can help it. gansey looks like he'd hurt himself trying to throw a punch, and he talks too much about dead kings to be allowed around swords. "anyway, the exit's right over there."

like the other library, the exit door is set into the far wall, immediately opposite the entrance. gansey frowns at the sight of it, his eyes following the line of al's pointing finger. he steps towards the center of the space between the stacks, shoving his hands in the pockets of his khakis and turning in a slow circle.

"it's awfully uncomplicated," he says, in his strange accent. it sounds like a complaint. but a polite one, like he's trying to extend a certain degree of diplomacy towards whoever designed the car and put it here.

al hums in agreement. he reaches for the closest shelf and plucks a book off it, rifles through the pages. all plain white, nothing printed on them. the next book is exactly the same, as is the next, and the next.

"these are blank," he says, holding up one of the books to show gansey.

gansey, who has flipped through several nearby volumes of his own in the same time, says, "these aren't."

he holds up the book in his hands, pages facing outwards. they're printed with black marks, but al squints and finds nothing legible on them. just scribbles and black marks that look like they want desperately to resolve into proper letters.

"like trying to read in a dream," gansey muses. "i don't suppose cryptography is still on the table."

"no," al says. he's decoded alchemical journals before. this feels nothing like that. gansey's earlier assessment of uncomplicated was right - whichever conductor made this got all of the surface details just so, but completely forgot about the smaller things. or didn't have the skill to implement them.

"that's a shame." gansey re-shelves his book. "i'd like to know what the conductor considers required reading."

"i don't think the books are the point," al says, even though he agrees. if there were real books here, maybe he could puzzle out which of the conductors made the car in the first place.

"what is, then?" gansey asks.

"some cars are just for resting in. or they're not, really, but they're good for if you need to take a breather." al glances at the low, homey lighting, at the charmingly mismatched furniture. "i think this is one of those. or whoever made it wanted it to be."

"rest stop for passengers," gansey says. he wrestles something small from his pocket and pops it in his mouth, chewing on it; when he steps closer to al, he smells sharply and distinctly of mint.

"do you want to stop here?" he asks.

al considers. there's a part of him that's drawn to this car. there's also a part that finds it vaguely unnerving, like it really was pulled from his dream-memories of the library in central. it makes the hair on the back of his neck prickle.

"do you?" he asks, flipping the question back onto gansey.

gansey smiles, somewhat thinly. "being at rest doesn't often agree with me."

"me neither," al says. he turns for the exit. "let's go."

[the-insouciant-scientist]

Character Sheet - Harper

-------

Name + Title: Harper Faraday, the Insouciant Scientist

Pronouns: They/Them

Referred to as: Professor

Profession: Silverer (Ontological Cartographer), Scientist (focus on chemistry, but does a bit of everything)

Closest to: Rubberies

Ambition: Bag a Legend (completed, A Vast Network ending)

Associated stats: Watchful, Persuasive, Artisan of the Red Science

Associated quirks: Steadfast, Austere, Melancholy

Sign of the Chiropteromantic Zodiac: The Lovers

Destiny: The Memory

-------

They say...

"Is that a weasel in their labcoat, or are they just... Oh! It is a weasel! Actually a few weasels. Wait, why are they all looking at me like--"

-------

Backstory:

(warning for vague mentions of both child abuse and neglect, and forced partnership/marriage, also sorry this is a wordy one but I promise it's for a reason lmao)

Isabelle Evans (she/they) was born in 1874 to a lower upper-class family in Norwich, England. She was beloved for what she represented, but not for who she was.

Bear with me, here. I promise this will make sense.

Isabelle's childhood was a lonely one, spent mostly learning how to grow up into a proper lady and trying to avoid her parents' ire. Her education did include reading and writing, to her endless delight, but the majority of it was the usual: embroidery, sewing, violin lessons, how to cook. Not skills she was upset to have, mind you, but what they represented was... less than ideal. The idea of becoming someone's wife one day was horrific to her at absolute best.

Her parents seemingly couldn't strike a balance between harshness and grace in their parenting, and it left her often feeling like she was walking across a glass pane so thin that she could fall through at any moment. She made up imaginary friends for herself to cope with it all, kids her age who liked to talk with her, who were good at the things she struggled with (so they could help when she failed), who understood that her parents weren't just the proud and friendly society folk they presented as to others. Imaginary friends who could hug her tight as she nursed skinned knees and bruises, who could hold her hand when she was scared.

She was eight when she was talking to her parents, trying to understand why they were upset with her, when she realized she didn't feel like she was the one talking. Like words were just flowing forth unbidden. If someone had asked her what her name was, right in that moment, she would have said Eleanor, but would not have been able to say why. The conversation ended with her mother hugging her, a rarity between them, and it had... resolved peacefully? She could hardly believe it.

Thereafter, Isabelle noticed things like that a bit more often. In tense moments, feeling like she was her imaginary friends, or maybe they were her. Perhaps that should have frightened her, but mostly she just felt loved, that she had people on her side for once. The odd forgotten day or misplaced needle case was such a small price to pay for their companionship. And from the outside, it only seemed like she had become more confident, more polite, more ladylike. A bit more forgetful, perhaps, but nothing out of the ordinary.

Isabelle found a small passion in botany and flower cultivation in her teens, and made a few friends as well. Her parents loosened their grip on her a bit as they saw how well she was taking to the life they made for her, and she absolutely took advantage of that. It wasn't an unusual sight to see her racing down the street with a friend's hand in hers, off on some adventure or another. Her imaginary friends quieted, less needed, but were never far when she called.

Things became more tense again as she grew into a young adult, though. Isabelle's parents were keen to marry her off while she was still young and pretty, hopefully to someone with money and power. Isabelle (who by today's standards would be considered a sex and romance averse aroace) was... not keen on that. She scared quite a few suitors off over the years by any means necessary, hatpin stabbings included.

At the age of 24 she was set up with one of her friends from her teenage years, her parents reasoning that she'd have a harder time frightening him off. And so Theodore ________ set to wooing her. She tried to shake him off like she had the others, but to no avail. He was absolutely set on making Isabelle his bride. Even went so far as to ask her parents for her hand in marriage, which they accepted immediately.

And so, with the death sentence of her own wedding hanging over her head, she drove herself half-mad looking for some escape. It was only when she heard gossip outside her window about some strange and wondrous cavern below the earth, where London had fallen to before she was even born, that the gears really began to turn. They only picked up speed when she heard of a card game that, when won, would grant a wish.

She could wish to disappear. Or be free, forever. Or whatever she wanted.

And so the Sentimental Spinster hatched a plan to find a way down there. Some petty crime that would land her in New Newgate, and then she could descend from there. But something went very, very wrong along the way. Maybe if you asked her, she could tell you what, but...

A person woke up in a cell in the very beginning of the first 1899, with no memory of how they got there, and in a body they didn't recognize. They quickly gained the name Harper from their inability to stop rambling. The surname Faraday came later, a name from a newspaper to fill the blank space at the end of theirs.

They made their escape as so many others do, and so Harper Faraday came to the Neath, full of curiosity and an insatiable desire to learn anything and everything they could.

The card game lay entirely forgotten in some shadowed corner of their mind, no longer a driving force or ambition.

There were simply so many other things to do.

-------

In-game storyline (not entirely in order) -

Harper took to detective work almost immediately upon arriving in the Neath, which eventually lead them down the path to the Correspondence, and the University. Their dedication to the truth got them kicked out (in what was honestly one of the worst days of their life that they were aware of) but they made it back eventually, even more determined to bring truth and knowledge to light. And set things on fire with the Correspondence, literally and figuratively.

Originally went after the Vake not as a hunter would, but as a cryptozoologist would. The idea of a batlike monster stalking the night, the likes of which no one had ever seen before? That sounded like an incredible research opportunity to them. By the time their internal compass went from "neutralize and study" to "end its reign of terror and kill it", it was... no longer quite them doing so. The Stubborn Vake-Hunter (it/he) was a self that formed out of necessity. Its sense of duty and single-mindedness was the main reason they saw it through in its entirety, untempted by the knowledge the Vake could give them.

They met Elias Leroux (@the-dye-stained-socialite) in 1899 (the first one) a little over half a year into their time in the Neath, in a bit of an incident at the University. Harper had been running full tilt back to their lab with a flask of colorful but deeply caustic chemicals, and tripped and spilled it over Elias's skirts as they had been wheeling in the opposite direction. They whisked Elias back to their lab to neutralize the spill before it could burn them, but Elias insisted that they try to set the color as a dye because they were so enamored with it. The two of them ended up spending the rest of that day doing nothing but experimenting with dyes and chemicals, and marked the start of a fast friendship. Over the years friendship turned to something more, though, and they were married at the Bazaar on May 3rd, 1899 (1901).

-------

Trivia -

They currently have about 440 weasels, including a salt weasel, a weasel of woe, many weasels of social discomfiture, some araby fighting weasels, and enough lucky weasels to overrun a city. Their favorite is a little cream colored lucky weasel with brown splotches on it, named Florence. It likes to curl up in tight spaces, like in their waistcoat, or in weasel-sized Florence flasks. Hence the name. Harper usually has 3-7 weasels on them at any given time.

Very allergic to grass and did not know this until their first Fruits of the Zee. It's not as if there's much grass in the Neath, it wasn't super relevant before then!

The Chorister's Bomb affected them Really Weirdly as a dissociative system. They and their alters are a bit more distinct from each other since then, although their dissociation is still such that they don't actually know that they're a system. They definitely don't have the words for it. Also I never intended them initially to be a parallel to Veils's different identities and selves, but it really did line up pretty much perfectly.

On the topic of their alters, they have an alter who's a Fingerking. No one knows if it's an introject or just a really confused actual Fingerking who tried to possess them and mostly failed. It's a mystery!

They make tea blends as a hobby, based heavily in flavor chemistry and Neathy history. Their current project is a series of blends based on the previous Fallen Cities.

Harper has a tendency to refer to everything scientifically, frequently using the words 'experiment', 'procedure', and 'formula' in place of more common words.

They're very friendly with The Manager of the Royal Beth, albeit also absolutely terrified of him. For good reason, I mean. They trust him implicitly to be a safe haven if they have to escape from Veils or anything else, but they are Fully aware that his help will come with a cost.

People tend to completely overlook them when they're next to Elias, which is absolutely fine by them given their wallflower tendencies. It's hilarious though when someone accuses them of faking knowing Elias for clout at Their Wedding... which is also their wedding... that they are marrying them at. Which is a thing that happened to them. Most Bohemians and Society folk view them as Elias's freaky little pet scientist, assuming they know of them at all.

Of the bats, they're probably closest to Wines nowadays (post Vake killing) by default. They help clean up at its revels sometimes out of guilt for what they've done. It doesn't care all that much, probably, but sure as hell isn't going to tell them to stop working for free.

They don't like alcohol. Black Wings Absinthe is the only thing they'll partake in, and that's only out of necessity. Was once possessed by Jack-of-Smiles. This surely has not traumatized them :-) (<- lying)

[archivalofsins]

Fuuta 15, Mikoto 19, Amane 20

milgram character ask game ! send the character + the questions

Thanks for the ask!

Kajiyama, Fuuta/ Futa Kajiyama

15. What do you think of their voice?

I love Futa's voice. His first voice drama was my favorite in all of trial one. The cadence in which he talks is incredibly interesting. Despite not knowing Japanese his voice actor really gave off the tone of speaking customary of someone trying to sound more threatening then they actually are.

The equivalent of this-

X X

It was very entertaining to hear. Like Futa's voice is very fun and full of character. It's just great to analyze. Especially how he tries to cover up his fear. It's very remniscent to people who grow up in suburbs around cities but not really deep in them. Which just gives this really nice impression of a scaredy cat trying to act touch in an intimidating environment.

His tone in his songs are even better. Just overall great voice acting and vharacterization through tone.

Kayano, Mikoto/ Mikoto Kayano

19. what do you think their childhood/teenage years were like?

I believe Mikoto had an average upbringing. Since he was raised by a single parent with a younger sibling I imagine he more than likely dotted on and watched his younger sibling a lot. Probably had to be responsible from a young age. Given his focus on acting the proper way in social interactions I think he may have been bullied often in his younger years and possibly ostracized frequently. He says he played baseball in high school but wasn't really good at it.

Giving his parental situation I believe he probably picked up baseball with the idea of possibly getting an athletic scholarship but it didn't panout. His experience with baseball in high school could very well be why he's so focused on being accomodating now. Since if you're not a good enough or active team player in baseball coaches may be less likely to give you athletic recommendations regardless of how good one is at the sport and they will note poor communication skills and teamwork as a sign of bad sportsmanship to scouts.

He also says he picked up giving people nicknames in college. This was possibly an attempt at being more personable on his part. The fact that he consistently extends patience but focuses on people behaving properly for their age specifically to make sure they don't have problems with others not for self-improvement makes me think he was picked on a lot for being too difficult to approach.

Along with his statements on Milgram more than likely mistaking him for someone which implies he's used to being accussed falsely or fully blamed for things he did not do. Just because others view him poorly already. Also people with those kinds of experiences growing up tend to have more difficulty saying no and setting boundaries which leads to them getting taken advantage of not only in their personal relationships but work ones as well.

Something Mikoto has shown to have an issue with as well doing what people who grew up in that way tend to do when faced with adversity-

“No, I need to do more…”

Blame themselves for it occurring regardless of if they have control over the situation or not. So I thought his upbringing was something along those lines.

Momose, Amane/ Amane Momose

20. what do you think their social life was like before milgram?

I think Amane was a rather unsocalized child. She seems to have been more used to communicating with adults than peers her own age. It's also stated that she was not allowed to amusement parks where she would have the opportunity to interact with children her own age. In Purge March we see here off on her own with a cat at an underpass used for dumping stuff.

Chances are she didn't have many friends her own age and that cat was the closest thing she had to one. We don't see much of her school life even though she's implied to be going to it. Just her walking to and back home from school. Considering she went to school bruised up like that and home with no issue it doesn't seem like most people were paying attention to her.

She also seems used to being ignored and sitting in silence reading on her own and perfectly fine with keeping it that way if in a particularly bad mood. She also only actively reaches out to other prisoners when she has a pretense to. Most of her timeline interactions with others being prompted by her need for help with studying.

Or even in the minigrams interacting with Mahiru and Yuno when she had bad bedhead. Beyond that she only discusses certain topics in depth. Such as her father who she talks about with great enthusiasm on multiple occassions. She seems to be a father's girl and used to keeping to herself. So, I imagine she only really opens up or shows her more childish side around people she trusts and have shown that it's okay to act that way around.

She's a very emotionally guarded person so she probably doesn't really let herself relax until she has reason to believe it's safe to. At least that's the impression she's given me. Once she does though she can be rather social and opinionated. She's definitely not one to back down just because someone older than her tells her she's wrong.

Like with Futa bringing up she hadn't ate her meat that one time or the birthday interaction she had with Yuno. She can be a very helpful and hopeful person for others to communicate with in Milgram because she reminds the other prisoners that they don't need to back down or bend to the circumstances they're in and I think a lot of the prisoners in Milgram appreciate that about her.

Something best illustrated through these timeline interactions,

22/04/19 (Futa’s Birthday) Futa: Ahh…… I’m not wrong…… I wasn’t doing anything wrong…… Shut up, why are you going on an on about something so minor…… It has nothing to do with you…… Aaahhh…… Amane: Oh, were you talking to yourself, Futa-san? Or maybe there’s something there you’re able to see? Futa: ……! O-oh, it’s just you. It’s nothing. ……but well, on that note. Hey. Don’t you have anything happening too? Since being in here, just suddenly getting anxious. Feeling as though loads of people are all there condemning you, telling you you were wrong. Amane: ……I’m fine. I don’t know what you’ve done or what it is you’re worried about, but I think if there’s something you believe in, you should stay true to it. It’s not something that should waver just because other people said something. I personally don’t plan on changing my own beliefs even if I’m told I’m wrong either…… ……today is your birthday, correct? I’ll pray for God to keep you under his care

23/06/27 (Amane’s Birthday) Amane: What is it…… Kashiki Yuno. Don’t sit so close to me. Go away. Yuno: Sorry for barging in when you’re getting into your worldview thing. But Mahiru-san’s finally managed to get to sleep. Humour me with some small talk while I take a break. By the way, Amane. Have you ever wished you were never born? I’ve thankfully lived a pretty fun life so far, so haven’t really. But you seem to be struggling with something. So, I kinda wondered if you thought like that. Amane: ……I don’t think that. Being born into this world is the first miracle any person experiences, and is something to celebrate. Even if after birth I was put through trial after trial, the value of that will never disappear. Yuno: Hmm. Ok. ……happy birthday, then. It’s good that you were brought into the world, I guess.

Amane constantly reminds the people she knows that they are not their circumstances. That they are in fact still themselves regardless of what anyone says about them or the choices they make and that if they still believe in and have faith in those choices they should stick to them. So even though I don't think she communicates often when she does I'm pretty sure it helps a lot of the people she communicates with.

So, before in within Milgram i think her social life was limited but very fulfilling regardless.

[kiristephens]

Name: Kiri Stephens Occupation: N/A Age: Appears 48; actually 48 Sexuality: Lesbian Species: Vampire Clan/Pack/Coven: Clan Lomidze Hometown: Auckland, New Zealand Relationship Status: Married (I guess??) Personality Traits: Intelligent, efficient, organized, patient, ruthless, calculating, standoffish, arrogant, vindictive

Biography (tw: racism/colonialism, kidnapping, torture, death)

Magic was something that Kiri was born into, though in her community, they didn't call it that. Her family comes from a long line of tohunga, Maori priests and healers who used the natural world and its abundances for their craft. However, it was never called witchcraft, for fear of persecution from settlers who already perceived them as primitive for their practices. Her own parents and siblings preferred to assimilate into the tidy little boxes that the world crafted for them, while Kiri craved learning more. She wanted to fill in the all of the gaps in knowledge left behind by colonial violence that stamped out anything that was different.

So at 18, she left Aotearoa behind and set off for the United States, seeking out an advanced degree in biochemistry while also learning all she could about her history and practices that have since been lost.

The wider world of the supernatural is opened up to her while she is trying to get her PhD in traditional Maori practices combined with the latest pharmaceutical endeavors, using it as a way to carve her way into the world she demanded. It is through this that she met an elder, someone who still seemingly held knowledge from a long-forgotten time, and eventually encourages Kiri to make her way to Port Leiry.

Once there, Kiri learned that the world was so much wider than she was initially led to believe. The Circle of the Phial welcomed her, and for the first time in her life, Kiri felt like she had a proper place somewhere. No longer was she chased away from knowledge that she felt entitled to know, and her mentor was thrilled to have someone to pass along said knowledge to carry on their culture, rather than led it fade away over time. Combined with Kiri's natural talent and her scientific background, she built a reputation for herself as particularly skilled with developing drugs and salves for illnesses and injuries, that were grounded in both traditional techniques as well as scientific advances. Kiri flourishes, reaching for higher goals and with them, riskier substances, particularly in ways to not only heal witches from attacks by other supernatural creatures, but to provide an offensive edge as well.

It's this ambition that has Kiri crossing into Westriver Gardens one day by herself, in search of a rare plant that had particularly potent numbing capabilities, originally local to her homeland but now transplanted into the Pacific Northwest. She doesn't anticipate being stopped by the owner of the Gardens herself, and is even more surprised that she manages to get away wholly unscathed. Rather than a threat, Laure proved to be the next person to change Kiri's life.

For the first time in decades, her ambition takes a backseat to this new development in her life. They dance around each other for months before taking the next leap, and after that, everything is history. She spends the next 12 years happily thriving in her relationship, and seeing what perks came with loving someone who was immortal. With it came bursts of creativity, unbound by issues of cost or material. The apothecary she runs leans into the tourist trap notions of spells and curses, while also providing all supernatural creatures with a variety of magical potions and enhancements. She reconnects with the family she thought she had walked away from, in the form of a niece and a protege. It's the closest thing to bliss that Kiri has ever been able to imagine.

What she kept secret from everyone, including her wife, were Kiri's recent experiments into new types of potions that, instead of enhancing traits, would work to suppress them. They were meant to be a means of easing this way of life to the people who were unwillingly brought into it. A potion to artificially flavor animal blood to mimic the qualities of a human or a witch, an elixir that allowed a wolf to sleep through the full moon in peace without the loss of control, a combination of herbs to help quiet the voices from the other side. An arguably noble motive, but one that could lead to disastrous consequences if exploited.

She never got far in these endeavors, sidetracked by the upcoming ceremony where she would transition from witch to vampire. She assumed that she would have eternity to continue working on such things, even without her natural magic.

The initial attack is a blur, iron tang in her mouth as an athame slices across her throat. Not deep enough to kill, but enough to spill the blood that is necessary for this ruse. She can still sometimes smell the way the crimson viscera poured out onto the concrete. She assumes it means her death.

She has never been so wrong.

When she wakes, she sees only her. For three years, she lives, solely at Lana's discretion. The vampire says it's because she needs a witch, to undo what another has done, but even if that was within her realm of magic, Kiri refuses. She languishes in the dark, provided updates on the outside world, on her wife, from a cruel voice, and she feels her mind begin to fray.

The masquerade is the final straw. Lana brings Kiri as her date, so she can see with her own eyes the indiscretions of her wife. She watches as Laure flaunts around a younger creature, a vampire, dressed in one of Kiri's favorite gowns. She watches as she dances with a human, whispering sweetly in her ear. She watches as her wife stands three feet away and is unable to hear Kiri's internal screaming while Lana bites into her neck.

At the end of the night, she returns to the cramped space that has become hers over the last several years. When Lana inevitably visits her, the pain and humiliation have twisted her into something inconsolable. So she begs, and Lana provides. It is a far cry from the detailed plan that she had created with her wife, but Lana takes her time. Shows her the closest thing to gentleness that she's felt in three years, and it ends with the snap of her neck.

Wanted Plots / Connections

TBA

[turoce]

Seana’s 2020 art highlights (a thread)

(Note: this is a reupload of a thread i did on twitter a few years back. so these are really old.)

January: i didn’t draw anything complete that month.... closest thing i could find to finished is this art i made of my OC, Angelord. man. remember when i drew my OCs? [2023 note: it's..... funny you say that. you would try to start up an original comic for the entirety of next year.... not that it ever came to fruition.]

February: i finished Link’s Awakening that month. i drew Marin bc i thought she was cute. i wish i could get motivated to draw fanart of recent video games i finished more... this is probably the last proper traditional art i made this year... after this, it’s mostly digital.

March: look. i’m attempting anatomy... and i failed lol. i remember being like “how do you draw woman” after drawing this... i mean. i still wanna know how to draw woman, so i guess i haven’t changed lol. [2023 note: I STILL DONT KNOW HOW TO DRAW WOMEN]

April: wait NVM here’s another traditional piece i made this year. he was an adoptable i made... but nobody was interested in them so he’s with me for now. i’ll try and redesign them, either to sell them or to keep him. [2023 note: i never sold this guy.... i was lazy and nobody values points these days. probs for the best because scamming children with virtual coins is probably not a good idea lmao. at the same time, i wish there was an easy way to buy and sell designs+commissions without having to get a credit card or paypal or something.]

May: another month where i didn’t draw anything. buuut i did some plush sketches to reference so das dat. [2023 note: you'll probably be able to name most charas here, but who's the guy i drew the most? that's Matteo, he's a little pink vampire and i made him through Gatcha Life.]

June: ah. the month where i started digital art. this was fanart for my friend’s OC. i didn’t know a lot of features of digital art so it looks like shit LOL not the first digital art i made ever, but it might as well be. [2023 note: i actually received my tablet around 2018, but i never had time to draw on it because i had 1 hour of screentime every day. this restriction was finally lifted in 2020 (because online classes) and i finally had time to venture out into the world of digital art...]

July: i made a lot of stuff this month, but to shorten the list... i finished the plush of my OC, Matteo. i wanna make another plushie... maybe with Suitcase.

this was also the month i joined the OSC... oh hell. it’s been 6 months?? [2023 note: 2 YEARS BITCH. ITS GONNA BE YOUR 3RD ANNIVERSARY if i didn't get so tired and started to hate the community so much.]

August: ...ergh. lets get over with this month quickly... Object OCs this. Object OCs that.

occasional Algebians.

i do not like the art here... it really shows that i’ve improved. ok let’s get outta here. [2023 note: i fucking despise the person who asked me why "they were old" to my humanizations of the Dangos. this is why i refuse to join another public server ever again and might have contributed to the delay of my human drawing skills.]

September: lots of Taco II. i seriously liked her a lot. still do, but the love is a bit more spread out between characters.

oh. and i watched ONE that month. cool.

October: i finally found a style that i could weld. hooyah.

don’t ask why i drew my friend as a cat maid... i thought it was funny ok.

September: the month of gift art. nothing else to say, but i like the thin lines. yes, ‘thin’. ...god i need to think of better things to say. [i would then realize i said the wrong month, and unlike tumblr, i cannot edit tweets once published, so my only option was to delete the whole thing and start over. or just say this:] did i just say September... oh for fucks- no i am not fixing this i’m already tired of this just imagine i said November ok

December: best art of this year so far (doh) nothing to say. just... happy that i improved. can’t wait to improve even more.

[hey look! i was in the 2020 JnJ christmas video! thats me! me!!]

aaand, that’s all for this year! man, i thought i was done with improvement. i can’t believe i proved myself wrong. usually other people do that for me lol. lets see if i can disprove myself again in 2021.

[tardytothesimspardy]

Romance Festival

He does this a lot

Flat decided to pop over for a visit, and this was a nice chance for his niece and nephew to get to know him better. For some reason though, Flat and Trigger had to talk in the bathroom? That's not weird in the slightest, guys. Not at all.

Speaking of, Trigger is now on the back-end of his phase, but the consequences of his actions are rearing their heads. He's quick to shout something out, or insult someone, and Buck has decided he has had enough of it, and starts dishing out time-outs left and right.

Susie is not spared from this either, and while in the midst of creating her abstract art on the kitchen linoleum, she also is forced to seethe in silence, to "think about what she did". She knows what she was doing, this is ridiculous!

The next day was more pleasant, because it was the Romance Festival! Mary Lu and Buck had never been, so they gave it a try.

Mary Lu sought out words of wisdom from the Romance Guru, but all she had to say was something about back massages? I guess that's a good thing?

After that, they renewed their vows, which is the closest they'll get to having a "proper" wedding, given that they just eloped in the main room of their house. It was very sweet, and extremely cute, and I liked it a lot.

Before the festival, Buck was feeling kinda flirty. After the festival, he was feeling extremely flirty, (idk how he functions at all around Mary Lu, given that he gets "very flirty" whenever he's around her) and so he decided to combine his interests: romance and the outdoors.

(i kid you not he had the want to woohoo in a bush for agessss like it would not go away and so i dragged them from San Myshuno all the way over to the Bluffs to make it go away) (also if you'll remember my weird woohoo comments from the last post, this time was a spectacular. i guess they're on the same page now?)

Once they were done with their fireworks, they got in the hot springs nearby to cool down for a moment.

The next morning met them with quite an issue: the bills have come in, and despite the fact that the estimate was around 1k Simoleons, the bills turned out to be five thousand Simoleons. They have never had that much money, and now wasn't any different.

Mary Lu had been feeling the strain of being the sole money-maker in the household for years, but with such hefty bills, she had a conversation with Buck, that someone had to help her, whether it be himself, or even Trigger.

Buck decided to take action immediately, by sorting through the decoration box, and sell anything they didn't need.

That didn't really help, seeing as they didn't have that much decorational stuff anyway.

Over the next few days, Mary Lu worked on her talking skills, and ended up asking Flo for a small loan, as well as another Sim she met, Mariana. By the end of the day, she had gained 1,000 Simoleons, but they were still a few thousand off, and they had lost their power.

Mary Lu then sold all sorts of knick-knacks she had on her, including that one future cube that she didn't even want anyway, and then she hoped for the best, and went to work. Maybe this would be a lucky day, and she would get a raise.

Unbeknownst to Mary Lu, Buck had planned a Spooky Day party, and he hoped that the guests took the lights-out effect as an aesthetic choice.

When Mary Lu got home, towards the end of the party, she had reason to celebrate along with everyone else: she'd brought home just enough to pay the bills, leaving them with 276 Simoleons, but at least they didn't get a visit from the repo-man.

[fates-theysband]

allll the self insert asks with ur Stanley Parable s/i?

thank you!! sorry for taking so long to get to this. i dont have a good excuse i just forgor.

give us a quick run down of your s/i!!

so i don't have a lot going on in terms of a proper tsp s/i bc the "main" timeline is the isekai one i've written about before but they're employee 104 (the fired one you see in the mind control facility lol) . not to make what would have undoubtedly be considered the closest thing tsp has to a mary sue but the mind control machine never quite had the same..."grip" on them as it did the other employees. it was still enough to keep them in line but they always had a sense that Something Isn't Right and they would find themself uncertain why they did certain things. they were fired because they ended up getting too close to 432 and management didn't want them mucking up the experiment.

they were still there when shit got real. or unreal, as the case may be. but the narrator missed them when he was deleting stanley's coworkers. because technically, they weren't one anymore.

post a meme that describes your s/i.

where does your s/i live? do they aspire to move or are they content with where they are?

they have memories prior to the parable of a crappy apartment with annoying (but not annoying enough for them to not feel like putting in a noise complaint would make them an asshole) neighbors. they're not sure how real those memories are anymore. if they are, they're starting to miss that place.

what's a song that describes your s/i? even better if you have a playlist!

"underground" by cody fry! most heartbreakingly beautiful song about getting hit by a train known to man. although i take the lyrics more metaphorically in this case.

what is your s/i's profession?

whatever it is the parable company does. they were what the book "bullshit jobs" calls a "box-ticker".

what does your s/i have most in common with you? what's different about them?

the most they have in common with me is that they have an unexciting office job that occasionally asks them to say or do things they don't agree with and that ultimately they just want to live a quiet life (don't say what you're thinking). but they handled being fired better than i would have. i think if my job fired me i would completely break down. not because i believe in the company but because i really don't want to move back in with my parents.

if your s/i was an animal, what would they be?

a goose. not in a chaotic "untitled goose game" way (a little bit in that way), in a "how the fuck did you get here there are literally no bodies of water in a several mile radius" way

how did you get the idea for your s/i's backstory?

thought "man the mind control machine is powerful so this probably isn't likely to be canon but wouldn't it be fucked up if someone was kind to 432 and eventually got fired for it because they were mucking up the experiment"

give us an example s/i outfit (or describe it).

honestly they just wear unexceptional business casual. something like this:

what are some of your s/i's major skills?

data entry and a typing speed of a about 140 wpm

seriously though, they're really sneaky and have an easy time getting to places that the narrator thinks people can only get into if he allows them. like the memory zone and the other games from the games ending and what have you.

what is your s/i afraid of?

well right now they're afraid there's no way out. like it's great being reunited with their office crush but it's exhausting having to hide in the margins lest the omniscient voice controlling the whole thing get wise to them and delete them.

if you had to compare your s/i to an already existing fictional character, who would it be?

they're a little like dr coomer from hlvrai; like not his personality just his role. they've recently realized that the situation they're in isn't real, just real to them, and they're kind of fighting to keep it from breaking them so they overplay their silliness

has your s/i's story changed since you created them or has it stayed relatively the same?

im still kind of fleshing them out. they've been Just A Concept for quite a while.

[kaz-foxsen]

AI Art Reverse Tiger Part 3: The Side Quest

During my odyssey to generate a photoreal "reverse tiger" (black fur with orange stripes), I got so frustrated with the persistance of black stripes that I took a detour to find out at what angle and how hard and I had to poke the FANTAREAL V0.1 model to make a tiger change its stripes.

I hoped that going in a fantasy direction, like making a purple tiger with glowing stripes or mystical rune markings, would help get the AI over the hump. That was a big nope:

It was eerie seeing so many beautiful images that were likely beyond the art skills I've been developing my whole life, and these were just byproducts without purpose crapped out during an experiment. It reminds me of the uneasy feeling of pondering the vast emptiness of the universe and one's place within it.

Also, an anime raver beefcake furry showed up. 😅 Prompt: a purple tiger with ((magical runes)) fur pattern

This was the closest result to what I wanted:

This thing is pretty damn cool:

When I added "wizard" to the equation, I got accidental beefcakes:

Trying to turn the tiger wizards into proper tigers still didn't give me the glowing stripes I wanted, but I guess enjoy some furry TCG art I guess:

Trying to think outside the box and seeing if the word "tattoo" might affect stripes seems to guarantee even more beefcakes:

Well, it's glowing and a tiger at least…

I quit the text2img prompting and went back to the drawing board. Forget tigers for now. Can I make a feline with mystical glowing rune stripes at all? I made a crude sketch of a housecat on a blue field with a glowing pattern, and there you have it. Glowing stripes on a feline IS possible. (Also, watch out for stray smudges that the AI might turn into a second unfortunately positioned tail)